A/N: This story is rated M for adult themes. The opinions of the characters do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the author.
Thank you to all those who have read (and reviewed) this story!
I do not own Hunter X Hunter or any other mentioned literature/books in this story.
The Unnecessary History of June Kito
The day Midoya June Kito was born, Mahou Kito tried to kill her. It wasn't that he hated the fact that his first born (only born, but he didn't know it then) child was female thus making her the first female heir to the Kito estate, a phenomenon that would have been unheard of just five years back. Nor did he wish to kill her because she caused her mother's death since she didn't (her mother, Miharu May Kito had a very easy pregnancy and delivery). In fact, Mahou Kito would never be able to say for certain why he found it necessary to toss the newborn baby into the washing machine and turn it on. All he had were vague memories of a sense of rightness as he watched the tiny form tumbling about in a spin-cycle set on medium. That had faded fast enough, and he had pulled his baby from the washing machine frantically, wondering what fit of insanity had almost made him kill his first born.
Half a day after Midoya June Kito was born, Miharu May Kito took a leaf from her husband and tossed the baby into an oven. "The child is evil," the distressed woman had said, watching the maids pull the strangely silent and largely unharmed baby out. Barely an hour later, Miharu May Kito was nursing the baby at her breast and delightedly planning music lessons for her child. "She will be a brilliant musician, just like her great-grand aunt, Villua Kito," Miharu May Kito declared to the nanny. "I already know it."
Over a span of three years, Midoya June Kito did grow up to be a fairly accomplished musician, as far as toddlers go. The household was still bemused by the sudden inexplicable homicidal rage that almost ended her life, but they put it down to nerves. Sterility had struck all the members of Mahou Kito's generation, save himself. As a result, his daughter was the only child born to the Kito estate in thirty years. That made Midoya June Kito the richest toddler in the world, which granted her a life expectancy of oh, perhaps about five years. Maybe the stress of having to protect the fragile little thing had driven the Kitos to kill her.
Nevertheless, the staff all agreed that there was something extremely odd about the child.
Yes, the maids agreed, part of it was that she was an extraordinarily intelligent child. By the age of two, she could read, memorize and more remarkably, understand poems by Shakespeare. By the age of three, the child had gotten so bored with her home tutor, who kept insisting on reading her nursery rhymes, that she had informed the tutor about the histories and social contexts of the rhymes. The tutor had quit on the spot and left the Kito mansion wailing about how she had unwittingly corrupted hundreds of innocent minds over the years. Undoubtedly, Midoya June Kito was a genius, and everyone knows geniuses are eccentric, which would explain why the child often came across as strange.
However, the staff confessed (only in the quietest of whispers), it went beyond that. It was the way the child was so… still. She only spoken when spoken to and only moved when asked to. Most of the time, the child just sat still staring. If left alone, the child could spend hours staring at objects: vases, tables, chairs even people, as if there was something there that only she could see. Once, the nanny had asked her what she was staring at. The child, thumb in mouth, had replied, "Glow".
Subsequently, the child was sent to numerous doctors at the orders of her panicked parents. Put through test after test, subjected to injection after injection, forced to take drug after drug, for the first time at the age of seven, the child expressed signs of distress. "You're hurting me, Mummy. You're hurting me 'cause you think I'm crazy," she accused her weeping mother coolly, short, stubby limbs held down by straps to the bed, "You think I'm crazy but I'm not. You are glowing, Mummy. I can see you glowing. Everything is glowing."
"Nothing is glowing! I know you are only lying! Stop lying!" Miharu May Kito had screamed. "Stop pretending to be insane!"
Out of his depth and with his wife hysterical and panicked, Mahou Kito had begged his mother, April Kito to help care for the child. The moment the elderly woman had walked into the room, the child had looked at her with those blank black eyes and said, "Granny, you're gonna die. Your glow's fading. Means you're gonna die. I'm sorry for that. Goodbye." Six hours later, April Kito suffered a fatal heart attack. She was only sixty.
That night, Mahou Kito held a pillow to his daughter's tiny face until she stopped breathing. A nurse on night patrol found the limp body shortly after and revived it. (Mahou Kito had the nurse assassinated later.)
The following night, Mahou Kito returned to his daughter's bed, a gun in hand, determined to end the life he had created. He had walked into the room, gun hidden behind him, and looked at his daughter straight in the eye before telling her how much he loved her.
"No you don't. You tried to kill me, Daddy," the little girl stated solemnly, her eyes dry and calm. "I can see in your glow that you hate me. You wish I were never born."
The gun clattered onto the ground and Mahou Kito walked out without saying another word. That would be the last he would see of his daughter.
Midoya June Kito would remain in that room for another three years until one day, her uncle came into her room with three large, surly men. "Your parents are dead," he told her. "I killed them, as I am going to kill you now."
"No you're not," the child replied and shot all four men with the gun her father had tried to kill her with. It was her first kill. When the nurses found her later, she was sitting on her bed, gun in hand, studying the dead bodies calmly. As frightened as they were, the nurses knew the drill. No cops. No laws. They called the Kito family lawyer instead who decided the best thing to do was to bring the heir of the Kito estate back to the Kito mansion.
Hence, at the age of ten, Midoya June Kito returned to the Kito mansion as head of the Kito estate. There to everyone's surprise, she proved to be a lively socialite and an astute businessperson. People liked her. She was charming, witty, charismatic and wise beyond her age. People also liked doing business with her. Very quickly, the coffers of the Kito estate swelled as she successfully executed business scheme after business scheme with both the mafia and legal organizations. Soon, the Kito estate was back to its full glory, and most agreed that it was thanks to Midoya June Kito. How well-adjusted the child was, people would said in wonder, given the tragedy that happened to her. How sweet and how smart! What a lovely child! Everyone wanted a child like her.
The staff was mystified by the change, but was only too willing to accept a chattier, more normal mistress. The only odd thing was that the mistress only responded to the name 'June' now. She even had her first name removed from all her personal documents. In a couple of months, people forgot she even had a first name.
At the age of twelve, June Kito vanished for half a year. The members of her household managed to keep word of it from reaching the rumour mill, but no matter what they did, they could not locate her. That was not surprising; June Kito had gone to take the Hunter Exam.
When asked during the first round of the exam why she wanted to be a Hunter, Midoya June Kito had paused thoughtfully then replied that she didn't in fact want to be a Hunter. When she had walked into the shady-looking grocery, she had just been trying to buy some milk. She certainly didn't know that 'banana-flavoured milk, chilled and in a bottle' was the code word for accessing the Hunter Exam. Despite his annoyance at that answer, the examiner felt there was potential in the child and she was let through to the second round. Consequently, she passed all six rounds with flying colours, and became the only candidate to pass the Hunter exam that year. Later, when asked, she had confessed with an apologetic smile on her face that she had found the exam rather boring and could she please have some banana-flavoured milk now? (As a result of her comment, the Hunter Exams for the next six years were so tough no one passed them.)
The point at which Midoya June Kito's life turned around was when she was presented to Chairman Netero to receive her license. As the old man held out the card to her, he had been slightly puzzled at the way the young child's eyes fixed on him and not the license. "You glow really strangely. You're weird," the child said suddenly. It was the first time she had mentioned the glow in five years.
Instantly, Chairman Netero had replied, "It's called Nen, not 'glow', child", thus breaking the unspoken rule of the Hunter Exam for the first and last time in his life.
"Nen," the child mumbled, and Chairman Netero watched her eyes come alive suddenly with a passion and fierceness that delighted and worried him.
"What's your name?" he asked, putting a hand on her head. She was extraordinarily small for her age, and her head felt so fragile in his large, calloused hands.
"J… Midoya," the child replied.
"Well Midoya, come with me and I'll tell you all about Nen," he told the child.
"Okay," the child agreed.
Though June Kito returned to the Kito mansion half a year after she vanished with the bottle of banana-flavoured milk she had gone out to purchase, she continued to disappear sporadically for months on end. The staff put it down to the eccentricities of the rich. With so much money and time on her hand, of course a young lady like Madam Kito would want to travel the world a little. It was only to be expected.
No one noticed how those disappearances corresponded with the rise of the famous Blacklist Hunter Midoya.
Midoya pressed the hair straightener to her hair carefully. Slowly, she ran it down the length of her hair and then lifted it away and examined her hair critically. As curly as her hair was, it was impossible for her to get her hair pin-straight, but she tried nonetheless – it was all part of turning into June Kito. In her mind, there was always a clear distinction. Midoya wore her hair, make-up and clothes differently from day to day, but June Kito always looked the same in her mind: straight hair that was always pulled back into a ponytail or a bun, flawless skin, subtle make-up and elegant, expensive clothes.
Finally, Midoya put the hair straightener down, and pulled her hair into a bun. Done, she looked herself up and down in the cracked mirror she had salvaged from a pile of rubble. Clad in an expensive, tailored suit with her acne-scarred skin hidden by layers of foundation and concealer, expertly blended out, she looked very different from her usual self. That was good; she was meant to look different.
Movement at the doorway to the room she had claimed as her own caught her eye and she glanced over. Kuroro Lucifer stood there staring at her. Despite his weakened condition, he looked remarkably healthy. His pale skin was still marred by bruises and dark eye circles, but he still looked handsome and healthy and… delicious. The both of them were remarkably similar in many ways, but one big difference was that while Kuroro Lucifer tended to look like a supermodel even with half his face purpled with bruises, Midoya tended to look like the supermodel's ugly sister. Midoya checked his Nen with Gyo, a habit she had developed once she had heard about the Nen chains around his heart. His Nen remained the same, constricted to the barest layer around him, and swirling uneasily around the foreign Nen glowing from his chest.
"Are you really not going to tell us your plan?" Kuroro asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Hmm," Midoya hummed thoughtfully, sliding a pearl necklace around her neck. Kuroro stepped behind her and helped her fasten the clasp. "It's too complicated," she said finally. "It's a lot of… connections and arm-twisting and backstabbing. You know… politics."
"Politics," Kuroro repeated, sounding mildly disgusted. He stepped away and regarded her change in appearance. He didn't look particularly impressed, nor did he look particularly disapproving. Midoya wondered if he recognized it for what it was.
"Indeed," Midoya agreed, amused by his reaction to her words.
"I can guess what you intend to do," Kuroro said. "You intend to use June Kito's connections to the mafia, who run the auctions, to obtain a game console. That is a highly dangerous thing to do."
"Yes," Midoya replied, interested in how far he could accurately guess at her plans.
"The auctions are the way they are for a reason," Kuroro was saying. "They are important because they are the arenas in which the various mafia factions can show off their wealth. It is a ritual, and a very sacred one at that. To go behind the scenes, to use your status to obtain an auction item and thus bypassing the entire ritual of auctioning… that would be blasphemy in their eyes. They would come for you and kill you. Furthermore, the Hunter Association knows Midoya and June Kito are the same person. If they find out you obtained a game console…"
"It would not bother them," Midoya broke in. "So what if I want a game? Everyone knows I'm freaky that way."
"The mafia will ruin you still," Kuroro argued, his tone authoritative and firm. "Not even the Ten Godfathers were able to obtain an auction item that way."
"Perhaps," Midoya murmured.
Now Kuroro looked exasperated. Midoya always found Kuroro's expressions interesting. His face was by no means expressive the way Pepeka's was. In fact, to most people, his face would probably seem blank and emotionles. But, Midoya had learned to read his emotions and thoughts in the slight lift of the eyebrow, the faint curve of his lips, or even the slightest widening of his eyes. It was fascinating trying to read the man, fascinating and probably very dangerous.
"Relax, Kuroro," Midoya said cheerfully. "I have a plan that is as safe as it gets."
Kuroro eyed her with appraising eyes for a while then sighed. "Very well," he said. "Still, using June Kito's identity doesn't necessarily protect you, Midoya. And if you mess up, I have to work with Pepeka and Hisoka, alone."
Midoya had to smile at that. She liked how he thought of her as 'Midoya', not 'June Kito'. "Don't worry," she said, adding the finishing touches to her costume. "I'll be fine."
"It would help a lot if I knew where your confidence came from," Kuroro complained.
At that, Midoya laughed. "Dear Kuroro," she said, spinning around to face him. "I am Blacklist Hunter Midoya. I am June Kito. There is nothing on this earth I cannot do. Just sit here and wait, dear Kuroro. I will get you your console. Then you can have all the fun of explaining it to Hisoka."
"You do know how to make me feel better."
Midoya laughed again, sweeping up a pretty clutch purse as she headed for the exit. "Don't worry," she repeated. "I'll be fine." And why wouldn't she be? Her plan was so simple and so easy to carry out. All she needed now, was a nasty mafia boy…
Humphrey Humbert Kahn II was feeling very pleased with himself. To explain the reason for this, one had to retrace the history of Humphrey Humbert Kahn back to his birth. As the second son of a relatively important mafia family in York Shin, he had no hopes of ever inheriting the family estate thanks to the tradition of male primogeniture. In such cases of course, one could always arrange for a tragic accident to befall the heir. Unfortunately, Humphrey Humbert Kahn II was also rather fond of his elder brother, who without complain bailed him out every time dear "H.H." accidentally strangled a whore or ran over little children. Hence, to the dismay of H.H. Kahn's pocket, fratricide was not in his future plans. The only other thing he could do was marry the rich daughter of another important mafia family. The best catch, all the second sons of mafia families (known collectively as the SS) agreed, was June Kito of the Kito family. Though she was technically not mafia, she did have connections with the mafia which made her honourary mafia. More importantly, she was rich and head of her family. Anyone marrying her would be, effectively, head of the Kito estate. That was a lot of estate. It was unfortunate that the dear lady was so plain-looking and fat, but hey, SS can't be choosers.
And that was the reason why H.H. Kahn II was feeling very pleased with himself. June Kito was notorious for refusing all her suitors to date, but today, she had summoned him to her estate. That was unheard of in the history of the York Shin Mafia. Never had June Kito invited anyone to her mansion for a personal visit, much less a young man of marriageable age like himself. Evidently, at the age of twenty-seven, the rich June Kito had finally decided she needed to settle down and make babies, and he was being screened as a candidate for that.
That was no surprise. H.H. Kahn glanced at his reflection in a conveniently placed mirror and admired his aquiline nose, his noble chin and his perfectly coiffed hair. Of course the lady would approach him first; his superior genes, so majestically manifested in his appearance, were undoubtedly desirable to her. Smirking triumphantly to himself, H.H. Kahn wandered around the waiting room, examining the beautiful pieces of art on the walls and the case of priceless gems in a corner. Soon, all of these would be his. He could hardly wait.
Abruptly, the door to the waiting room opened and June Kito walked in looking the same as usual: boring hair, boring make-up and boring clothes. Startled, H.H. Kahn immediately drew himself into a noble pose: back straight, shoulders back and one hand on his hip. It was time to impress.
"Dear Lady," he greeted, bowing gallantly over her hand. "You do not know what a pleasure it is to be graced by your presence."
"Mr Kahn," she replied politely. "Thank you for coming at such short notice. Shall we speak in my office?"
"Yes, of course," H.H. Kahn replied, confused by the business-like tone in her voice. He followed after her as she strode into the inner office. To his dismay, the office was nothing like the waiting room. It was plain and functional and furnished with cheap furniture. When he was head of the Kito estate, all this had to go.
June Kito sat down behind the desk and smiled at him. He smiled back, tilting his head to best display his strong jawline. "Now, Mr Kahn," she said. "Undoubtedly, you are wondering why I have requested your presence here today."
"Please call me Humphrey," H.H. Kahn said, smiling charmingly at her. "Just being able to see you have made me the happiest man on earth, and I was so ecstatic to see an invite from you that I could hardly care why you would summon me."
"You are very sweet," June Kito replied, smiling warmly. Kahn had to struggle to hide a smirk. Women were so easy to fool; a few words of flattery and they went all gaga over him. "If I may be frank with you… Humphrey?"
"Yes, dear lady," Humphrey said, turning smouldering eyes on her, "it would please me so much."
"Well, I have a bit of a favour to ask of you," June Kito said, still smiling. She had dimples. Had she always had dimples? Kahn had never noticed them before. "I am, as you surely know, something of a collector."
"Of course," Kahn replied. No, he hadn't known. What did she collect? Dolls? Stamps?
"A girl must have a hobby after all," June Kito went on. One hand reached up and started playing with the pearl pendant around her neck. It was a very girlish gesture, and ay caramba was that pearl huge. Kahn tried to guess how much it cost. A hundred thousand zennis? A million?
"Indeed," Kahn agreed, still fascinated with the pearl. "I am something of a collector myself. I collect swords of all sorts. Ah, but that must be of no interest to a delicate young lady such as yourself. What do you collect, dear lady?"
"Body fluids," June Kito replied, smiling.
H.H. Kahn choked on his own saliva. Coughing vigorously, he clamped a silk handkerchief to his face and struggled to regain his composure. "B… body fluids?" he stammered.
"Blood, vomit, mucus… bile," June Kito confided, smile widening. "You will not believe how fascinated I am with them, Humphrey."
"Oh… how…" Kahn swallowed hard, "how… delightful." He rallied swiftly. "What a perfectly delightful hobby, my dead lady! You must show me your collection one day. It sounds absolutely fascinating."
"Indeed," June Kito said, leaning over the table to look at him. Kahn forced himself not to draw back from her. Her eyes were so… black. "And you see, here's where I need your help… Humphrey." He did not like how she was saying his name. If she wanted him to vomit in a jar…
"How?" he gulped.
Abruptly, she turned away from him and pulled a sheet of paper out of a folder. "I see here," she said, "that the Kahn family has suggested putting up several old items that have been in the family vault up for auction."
They had? Well, big brother would have be the one dealing with that, so Kahn wouldn't know anything about it. "Yes, of course," Kahn agreed.
"And I see here that a number of items have been suggested, but not confirmed," June Kito went on, "which means the items here are not technically auction items yet."
"Eh… yeah?" Truthfully, Kahn wasn't sure. If it said so on paper, it must be so.
"Oh Humphrey," June Kito said with a sudden passion, "Several of the items here are body fluids." She spun around, suddenly energized and started pacing. "I read off here that your family is suggesting auctioning the old family diary of Jlad the Serial Killer of Blackchapel, the knife Jlad used, and a collection of James Kahn IV's body fluids."
"Eh…" Kahn mumbled. Brother had mentioned something about this. "Yes, I believe that is right."
June Kito's smile was really wide now. "Humphrey," she murmured. "I must see this collection. You will not believe how much I desire those body fluids." She was leaning towards him now, eyes half-lidded and cheeks flushed. "You will take me to see them, wouldn't you?"
Humphrey Humbert Kahn II swallowed hard. She was leaning so close to him! He could smell the perfume she was wearing, something warm and musky and expensive. Her eyes were so black, so very, very black. And she had a really nice bosom. Shakily, he wiped the perspiration off his high forehead.
"Yes," he replied, his voice raspy. "Yes, of course."
And why shouldn't he, H.H. Kahn wondered, as he pulled his car into the Kahn estate, June Kito sitting in the passenger seat. What better way to impress the lady than to show her the magnificence that was the Kahn estate? Perhaps that was her goal all along, to actually see the Kahn estate. Perhaps she didn't know that it will never be his and expected to get this estate upon marriage. Well, what she didn't know wouldn't kill her.
"And here we are, my lady," he said, opening her door with a flourish. "Welcome to the Kahn estate."
"Wonderful," June Kito murmured, sliding out with a grace he hadn't expected from such a plump woman. "What a beautiful mansion."
"Yes, isn't it?" Kahn said proudly. "The mansion itself was built a good four hundred years ago, but the west wing is new. It was built only recently, about ten years ago, but was designed so it fits perfectly with the old mansion."
"Beautiful," June Kito repeated, taking the hand he held out and wandering into the mansion. "Now where is this wonderful collection you are putting up for auction?"
"Oh. Erm…" Well, if the items came from the family vault, they would probably still be there. "This way, my lady."
Gallantly, he led her towards the stairs that led to the basement. "Careful, it is dark here," he warned her. If she fell and broke her neck, all his dreams of obtaining her estate would be lost forever.
"Indeed," June Kito agreed and descended without the slightest bit of caution, her steps firm and sure. H.H. Kahn followed nervously behind her, arms held out to catch her in case she fell. She didn't.
"And here is the family vault!" he declared once they reached the bottom. Quickly, he opened the heavy door and let her in. He was certain he wasn't supposed to allow outsiders in, but she wouldn't be an outsider for long anyway.
"Oh!" June Kito cried, her voice delighted. "Look at these beautiful jars! Oh! Those colours! Those textures!" Grinning broadly, she held out a jar of something beige and slimy. Evidently, she had found all that remained of James Kahn IV.
"Fascinating," H.H. Kahn agreed, staring. He had never seen those jars before and they were awful. Clenching his teeth, he looked away and tried to think of kittens.
June Kito flitted among the shelves, picking up jars at random and oohing and ahing happily. "Oh, this is delightful! Absolutely delightful!" she exclaimed. "Oh dear Humphrey, your ancestor had such beautiful bile. Just look at this gorgeous greenish-yellow colour! And this texture! Look at how viscous it is, even after so many years! Can you imagine? This was once in your ancestor! And now it is out of him! Wouldn't you wish to have all your body fluids drained from you and put in jars after you are dead?"
"Of course," H.H. Kahn agreed, turning a greenish-yellow colour himself.
Suddenly, June Kito was in front of him, invading his personal space, her eyes glowing eerily in the dimly lit vault. "Dearest Humphrey," she murmured. "I must have these." She held up two jars, one containing something transparent and bubbly, and another containing something that might have been red once but was now brown and black and… green.
"But… but I believe those are up for auction," Kahn managed to say through the wave of nausea shaking him.
"Oh, but they haven't been registered as auction items officially," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. "Couldn't you just let me take them? Please?"
Oh god, he did want to give them to her, if only so she would stop holding them to his face. But he couldn't. If big brother found out he gave away their ancestor's body fluids to secure a marriage, he would be so pissed. "I can't do that, I'm sorry," he whispered, swallowing hard.
A look of huge disappointment washed over June Kito's face and she backed off. "I would have been so happy too," she whispered, tears in her eyes.
Oh lord. "Oh my dearest lady," Kahn said hurriedly. "Please don't cry. Look, if you want to, you can come by anytime you like to admire these… these… fluids."
"But I wouldn't have it!" she cried, her voice filled with anguish. "No! I cannot stand to look at it if I cannot have it!" She shoved the jars violently into his arms and Kahn's arms closed around them instinctively. He shrieked in terror and shut his eyes immediately.
"Dearest lady…" he croaked, his arms weakening at the memory of centuries old fluids in his… oh god…he couldn't think while they were in his… oh god… oh god… What if he dropped them? What if he dropped them on his foot and the containers broke? Oh god… ohgodohgodohgod…! "Look…"
"Alas, I cannot bear this anymore," June Kito wept. "To stand in this beautiful room, to gaze at those gorgeous fluids, but to not be able to have them! And soon, I will forget how this room looked like, how these beautiful, glistening, moist fluids look like! No! I do not want to forget this place!" She turned to Kahn. "A memento," she whispered. "Please, let me have a memento from this place. Something that will not be missed." She looked around and then picked up a square box. "Does this still work?"
Kahn was forced to open his eyes to see what she was referring to. He remembered that. "No, it doesn't," he said, remembering the time he and brother had tried it out. No matter what they plugged into it, it just hadn't worked. It was just a stupid pile of wires.
"Well," June Kito was saying now, her face hopeful. "If it doesn't work, can I take it? Just so I can look at it and remember those beautiful jars of preserved bodily fluids?"
At that, Kahn remembered the jars in his arms. Another wave of nausea washed through him and he swallowed. He needed to get out of here now. "Yes, yes, just take it," he said hurriedly, struggling to put the jars down without breaking them. "Just take it. Let's go." Without waiting for her, he turned and ran out of the vault. Quickly, he retreated to a corner and threw up violently.
A few minutes later, he straightened up and wiped his mouth. Good lord, he could not believe he just lost his lunch in front of June Kito! Flushing with shame, he turned around and said, "Apologies my lady I…" then he paused and looked around in confusion.
June Kito was gone – as was the Greed Island console.
Kuroro looked up from his book as the door opened. At the sight of the square package in her arms, he smiled faintly. "I see," he said, going back to his book, "so you succeeded."
"But of course," Midoya said, smiling back. "Did you ever doubt my success?"
"A little," Kuroro confessed. "So, will you reveal how you did it now?"
"Umm," Midoya said thoughtfully. "Well, there were dealings with the mafia, torture, seduction, and some suggestion of a mutually beneficial marriage."
"Politics," Kuroro said with great distaste.
"Indeed," Midoya said, smiling at something that clearly amused her. "Well then, Kuroro," she said, setting the game console in front of him, "what now?"
"Now," Kuroro replied, flipping a page, "we wait for a serial murderer to contact us."
A/N: Here is the next chapter as promised! Hope you enjoyed it!
Minor Trivial: Humphrey Humbert Kahn's first and middle name, also known as H.H., is a reference to Humbert Humbert (H.H.) from Lolita, a novel by Vladrimir Nabokov. The reference is not a flattering or complimentary one.
Trivia: H.H. Kahn did, in the end, marry a rich daughter of a fairly important mafia family. She was very pretty, very sweet, very rich and she did not collect body fluids (Kahn hired a private detective to confirm that). On the night of their wedding, H.H. Kahn left his wife in the hotel room to roam the dark alleys of the city. He eventually found a nice young prostitute, enjoyed her services and then proceeded not to pay her. When the young woman protested, he pulled her hair, slapped her and insulted her dress. That, unfortunately, enraged the young woman (who already had an abusive father, abusive boyfriend and abusive pimp to deal with, and was really not in the mood to endure an abusive little cheat who really wasn't as good as she pretended he was). He was subsequently bludgeoned to death with a pair of high heels.
Given that H.H. Kahn had a reputation for using and discarding women, especially prostitutes, a great number of people found a good deal of poetic justice in this. Women gossiped about how his sweet widow was really lucky to be freed from a marriage to a prick. Men spoke with great horror about the way the heels were found lodged in a very sensitive part of Kahn's anatomy. Several men who had been 'Kahns' got their acts together and made it up to their wives. A group of teenagers did a spoof of Kahn's death and uploaded the video onto the Net (from there, they were taken in by a large production company and eventually became famous for making deep, heartfelt comedies for the big screen). A copycat killer produced a string of dead 'Kahns' over the span of a month; she was arrested, convicted of murder and presented an award for public service in the execution chamber prior to her hanging. Due to all these, H.H. Kahn's death would subsequently be crowned The Most Significant Death of the Century in York Shin.
When Midoya was told that H.H. Kahn, who had boasted for several months that 'that Kito broad is total patsy in my hands', was killed with a pair of high heels by an unknown prostitute, Midoya's response was a puzzled, "Who is that? Do I know him?" Upon being shown the autopsy pictures, she added, "Those are some nice heels. I wonder where she got them."
