Chapter 03 – Birthday cake

"I'll have you know that being civil is the most I can manage," the youth insisted.

That did not some to dishearten the man. "I'm sure your acting skills will be sufficient."

Kurapika's frown deepened. "As soon as the sun rises, we're out of here. We will be leaving first and you will not be moving from this facility until at least fifteen minutes have passed."

"That should be fine," the man replied. "It doesn't interfere with our initial plan."

His eyebrow twitched a little. "That doesn't mean that our agreement lasts until sunrise. It lasts until we are very far out of each other's sight."

"Naturally," Chrollo agreed without question.

"So," he breathed through his nose, mentally channelling his strength of will. "Why are you still holding onto my hand?"

"Hm?" Round eyes innocently blinked at him. "You were still negotiating, weren't you?"

Kurapika had to use every drop of patience he could muster into forming a reply. "I am –"

"Besides, I was taking in the moment. Did you think that the two of us would ever come to an agreement one day?" Chrollo seemed to muse.

Even though the blonde knew he was being taunted with, the man's smirk made it difficult for him to form a reply that wasn't physically violent. "We seem to be done here," he tore himself free and stepped back. Turning away however, didn't mean he was lowering his guard. Disgust made Kurapika subconsciously clench the hand he made the deal with the devil with. Agreement or not, he would never even begin to trust these monsters.

Gon was the first one he crossed paths with, simply because his friend approached him first. "Kurapika, we'll be going ahead," he let him know, carrying a sympathetic smile.

Killua, who was following behind, stretched his arms above his head. "Make sure to take your time," he said, nonchalantly. But once those blue eyes burned into his for just the fracture of a second, Kurapika acknowledged those words for what they were… a time-out.

The two boys wasted no time, strolling right past the Phantom Troupe's leader without seemingly any hesitation, whom for a moment closed his eyes, carrying the hint of a smile. Nobunaga glanced at the kids and sighed, before finally putting his katana away.

"Melody must have held everyone off, or we'd have been interrupted by now," Kurapika informed Leorio as he handed him the beetle phone he'd picked off the floor. "But it can't hurt to double check. Make sure everyone you invited goes home."

"…Yeah, okay," Leorio acknowledged, hesitating for a moment while scrambling together his thoughts. "Wait, Kurapika," he instinctively reached for his arm when his friend started to walk off. "This wasn't supposed to turn out this way. I don't know what else to say but… I'm sorry."

The blonde paused for a moment, before turning his head in the direction of Gon and Killua. Phinks towered over them with a non-threatening stance and exchanged a couple of words with them. They didn't look visibly uncomfortable.

"It's not your fault," was Kurapika's short reply, but never met his friend's eyes.

And as he stepped away, Leorio couldn't help but frown at the small of the blonde's back. The heavy thoughts weighing on his mind and body were almost tangible.

Leorio decided that the best thing he could do right now was to try and ease some of that burden.

He wasted no time in doing what he was asked and called back Melody.

Her quick actions had been a godsend; she had already rounded all the guests up and had them all evacuated to a different location. It was then that she started asking questions and expressed her concern once he filled her in. He tried to reassure her that the penthouse was now neutral ground, but she offered to stay and keep an eye on the building for the rest of the night. They kept going back and forth for a bit and finally settled on her being kept under speed dial, with an obligatory phone call before dawn to discuss a meet-up point.

When Leorio hang up the phone, he felt slightly more at ease. For the first time, he could rub his stiff shoulders loose, crack his neck and look around the penthouse he had rented out with a different party in mind. He couldn't help but gape upwards at the its dome-like shape surrounding them, its outer wall puzzled together with asymmetrical pieces of glass that matched the style of the rest of the building. "It's like a planetarium, or something," he muttered beneath his breath at the darkened sky surrounding them from all angles.

Once the sight of the stars glistering no longer amazed him, his eyes were drawn to the fully operational bar, already hearing the many stacked bottles calling out his name. Heh, that should take the load off things. …But well, maybe he should stay sober for now, just until Kurapika was less of a walking grenade. While he was silently debating this, he glanced at the large swimming pool at the back of the dome, which was facing the glass wall. That must give an amazing view of below.

The lounge area was in the middle of the room. There were plenty of comfortable couch and chair space and it was dressed with the newest technology. He had seen Killua take a couple of side glances at the many console games, while not outwardly expressing his interest. Finally, on the left was a wide table stuffed with delicious looking food. He was smiling at the highly anticipated chocolate fountain when a thought crossed his mind that made him gasp out loud. "I only made a deposit. Shit, what if I'm paying for food and drinks for everyone?" Leorio mouthed to himself.

"You made a reservation for seven people, right?" He seemed to have caught the attention of one of the Spiders. Shalnark held his cellphone up, looking at him with big green eyes. "I can mark your payment as complete and even wire back the deposit you made." His fingers were already ghosting over the buttons as he told him this.

Leorio's eyes went huge at this proposition. "You can actually do that!?" he shockingly asked.

The blonde Spider gave him a simple smile. "Would only take a minute."

"Aaaarghhh," the man gritted his teeth as he hissed through them, thinking loudly. "That's so tempting! But I can't."

"Oh?" the blonde Spider sounded surprised. "Loud morality?"

"Naah," Leorio waved off. "But this got arranged through an acquaintance of mine. But I don't want to put him in trouble. I would have never gotten a place like this without his help."

The spider's gaze fell upon the fabric and stitch choices of the suit of the man in front of him. "Yes I'm sure," Shalnark nodded along.

That lingering gaze made Leorio start sniffing like a bull that has seen a red flag. "What do you mean by that, hah?" he felt personally offended.

The blonde eyed him for a moment in decisive silence. "I thought this before, but… You must be an Emitter."

That seemed to hit the wind out of his lungs. "Wh-what does that have to do with anything?" he suddenly stammered, as if his reaction wouldn't confirm the suspicions thrown out in the open.

"Nothing much," Shalnark smiled ambiguously. "Anyway, I made sure to separate our costs, so don't worry." He held up his phone to show him, out of courtesy.

"Oh… alright," Leorio glanced it over, now completely mellowed out. He felt embarrassed and felt himself looking for Kurapika, whom was being approached by one of the female Spiders. And when his friend shot him a glare, it felt as if he already knew that Leorio had just spilled life-or-death information within only a couple of minutes of conversation. He couldn't believe his Nen type was so easily guessed and did not want to think too hard on the consequences that might bring on later in time.

Maybe he needed a drink after all…

At the game console station, the young assassin was now rummaging through the different consoles to choose from, ranging from the old classic style to the latest version that was both wireless and touch sensitive. Growing up with an otaku as a brother sure did keep him updated with all the rare stuff and he recognised a couple of games he never got to play, since Milluki was stingy like that.

Still, Killua's attention was only absently drawn, as he was actually listening closely to Gon's conversation with Phinks and Feitan.

"You were in Greed Island as well?" Gon's voice piqued in excitement. "You didn't show up in our Binder at all!"

They should be grateful for that, Killua commented to himself.

"Well, we didn't get to play much," Phinks admitted, scratching the back of his head. "So it's not crazy that we didn't run into each other."

"Heard you won the game," Feitan softly spoke from behind his high collar. "Congratulations."

Gon smiled sheepishly and his best friend was low-key impressed at the casual friendliness the boy effortlessly portrayed. Compared to Leorio's stuttering awkwardness and Kurapika's violent tantrums, this might just be what they need to keep them all alive until dawn.

"Thanks, but we couldn't have done it without outside help," Gon admitted. "Everyone worked really hard to win the game."

The tall blonde man shrugged. "What matters is the result, right?" he stated as a matter-of-fact. "Whether you do it alone or in a group doesn't change that."

"If you won, you won," Feitan backed up, which what seemed to be simple logic to them.

"I suppose so," Gon mused. "But it's still important to acknowledge it, I think."

"What do you think of this?" Killua tossed his friend a classic fighting style game he only vaguely recognized. He wanted to wrap this discussion up and the best way to do that, is to draw his attention elsewhere.

The boy caught it with ease. "Sure, looks good," he said.

"We'll let you have fun. We'll come fetch you when it's time for the group games," Phinks said.

This made the white-haired boy's head snap up. "Group games?" he repeated with silent dread, speaking up for the first time in their conversation.

"Oh yeah, with birthdays we each think up a game," he continued as if it was a casual occurrence that didn't need much explanation.

"Old tradition," Feitan said. "We like to play to win as well."

And just like that, without discussing anything more, the two boys were left to fill in the blanks themselves.

"Do you think that everyone will need to join in?" Gon thought out loud.

"Shit, I hope not," Killua said under his breath. But somehow he didn't think this was obligatory.

While he hadn't necessarily intended to listen to Killua's suggestion to stay put, Kurapika did decide to pick a quiet spot that had a decent overview of the entire floor. There, he lingered into a corner and pressed a couple of buttons in his mobile device.

He first spoke with the receptionist of this very hotel, who claimed the situation to be a mistake with the booking. She heavily apologized while offering alternative options for them to take – which he would have gladly taken if the circumstances hadn't already been irreversible. When checking the system, it became clear that they were mushed together as a party group, rather than a separate booking. Apparently, the name the room was officially booked under was the owner's name. Registered as a work-related expense, this was the payment settlement Leorio had mentioned, making the room essentially free apart from the separate arrangement of food and drinks. Although the receptionist couldn't tell him when and how the Phantom Troupe members were added to their initial number, this very arrangement made it clear that Leorio booked it first.

Next was determining how those names were added – which he called his hacker for, but when the call went through, all that answered was an alcoholic slur. "Booooosss," it rang. "Whe'd yagoooooo? Guys – listen, we need to, we need to sing a song, guys - it's our cute boss!" The guy started to sing two words, before barfing into the microphone.

Kurapika immediately pressed the end call button, resisting the urge to cover his face with his hands in both frustration and second-hand embarrassment. They wouldn't be much help for the coming hours. He debated whether he should cancel a couple of reservations for tomorrow, but the hour was too late to approach any of his current clients without some serious backlash. This was awful. If this night went without any casualties, some would follow the very next morning.

"Is it fun to keep standing there?" someone asked.

Kurapika glanced at the girl with glasses that approached him. She held up a plate of which she had been taking small bites from. She was already walking around in her bikini, which he wouldn't have cared for if it wasn't for the glaring spider tattoo staring straight back at him. "It's your birthday party too, you know. Oh," she said as she pricked her fork in a piece of cake. "I suppose the cake is half yours as well. We already cut it, but there's still plenty."

"…" Kurapika caught Leorio's eyes in that general direction as well, for different reasons obviously, who's stare deflated when he noticed the intensity of the blonde's glare.

"How are we supposed to call you?" she continued on. "Chain bastard doesn't sound very friendly."

Civil, he reminded himself of the promise he made. While he had plenty of experience with meditation exercises, no amount of time could channel a feeling of serenity now… but at least he might stop himself actively breathing murder. "It doesn't matter," he replied coolly.

"Really?" the girl questioned out loud. "Then what was your name again?"

He exhaled a slow breath, patience running thin. "Stop talking to me," he sternly advised.

Shizuku shrugged her shoulders, not all that concerned about the rejection. Suddenly looming over them was the shadow of something twice their size in both length and width. The turn of their conversation apparently didn't sit well with the big guy, who appeared as if summoned.

And while Kurapika's position had him literally pushed into a corner, he did not respond to the physical threat of the man's build, or even adjusted his position at all.

"Franklin?" the girl with glasses asked. "Why are you having a staring contest with the chain user?"

The man did not address her, but Kurapika instead. "We have placed you in a situation outside of your control and understand your reluctance to meet our demands, which may seem unreasonable to you," Franklin stated. "Still, the agreement was made that we would get along. You may want to put more effort into showing that. Your friends will appreciate that as well."

"Do not attempt to voice the opinion of my friends." Kurapika's voice was one of cold disdain.

"Well, he did say that he didn't mind the nickname we gave him," Shizuku mentioned. "It would probably be weirder if we started calling him something else, right?"

Franklin grunted and there was no way to tell whether that was meant as an agreement or not.

Through the calming breaths he consciously took, Kurapika suddenly realized something about their initial deal... it's no wonder they sought him out at an attempt to uphold their end of the bargain. Yet, at this point in time the blonde already felt as if the restraints he placed on himself had little room to stretch before they snapped. How they did not seem to understand this was beyond him.

"Let's go."

Kurapika barely heard the words, reacting more to the action following them.

A hand the size of the blonde's head had reached out and taken hold of the back collar of his jacket, lifting him a good few inches. His eyes flared up right as he forced his arms right out of the jacket, the unnatural movement nearly causing his shoulders to shift out of their sockets.

From across the room, Leorio spit out his drink, jumping to his feet right away. "No – no, bad idea," he waved his arms in some sort of visual protest.

Franklin took hold of his lower right arm right as he landed, the man's large fingers wrapping around it entirely. With teeth bared, Kurapika's expression held something feral.

"Shit," the doctor-to-be cursed to himself. "Kurapika, breathe, take a breath… Don't do anything rash!" he was desperately warning his friend. Yet the blonde didn't show any indication that he was listening to that advice when he dug his heels into the floor – undeniably focusing his aura in them.

"Please cooperate with us," Franklin said as he pulled him along, making it seem almost effortless.

"How is this cooperation and not straight-up assault!?" the blonde raised his voice in contempt as he was lifted off his feet once more, dangling with one arm into the air. Needless to say, he did not condone any of it, but he was trying his very hardest not to protest with anything other than words.

"Kurapika!" he heard Leorio plead with him once more. This wasn't an attack - he did realize as much. That is why he breathed in and out through his nose, restraining himself from kicking the Spider in his face. And with just a couple of large steps they reached the lounge area, where he was dropped between the cushions of the couch, with care similar to that of luggage.

The blonde pushed his hands into the cushions to move right up when a plate was unceremoniously placed in his lap – a candle lit, stuck into a piece of cake. This baffling sight froze his intentions, turning his gaze on the person casually sitting next to him.

Those dark orbs watched him with what appeared to be light amusement, the lines of a stretching smile made him appear younger… and more innocent than Kurapika would ever know him to be.

"Happy birthday," he was wished, in such a light tone, it could only be perceived it as mockery.

"…Are you serious," Kurapika replied in disbelief.

"Very. Would it help you if we sung you a happy birthday song?" Chrollo leaned against the back of his hand as he suggested this, taking a very nonchalant approach to the conversation.

It took a moment for the sheer audacity of this all to catch up to him. "This is no laughing matter," the blonde sharply warned.

"Well now, it is supposed to be a joyful event," was the response that showed no restraint. "Another year to count up your time alive in this world… how can we not make this extra special for you?"

Behind the tiny flame of the candle flickering between them, Kurapika's gaze darkened. "If you pull another prank like this, mind my words, I will personally shove this cake right down your throat."

His threat didn't seem to faze the man at all. "You might want to make a wish on that," he keenly smiled.

The blonde brushed his tongue against his thumb and forefinger, before annihilating the flame with his fingers. "I won't need to." He placed the platter down on the table before them with a bit more force than necessary, the piece of cake flopping over on its plate. He opted that removing himself entirely from the situation was the best course of action.

"If we are to get along, you should be more of a willing participant."

Kurapika looked back at the Phantom Troupe leader, whose light tone had dropped towards a slight chill. The position of the man was in did not shift, yet something undeniably did as those dark eyes looked at him with some form of authority others would respond to.

"And however on their best behavior the others may be… as far as a conversation partner goes, I might be your best bet," the Phantom Troupe's leader continued.

The scoff that left Kurapika's lips subconsciously showed his contempt. He had realized it earlier; how this man's condition had been deliberately vague. Treating others as fairly as we would treat ourselves is a flexible statement that could be bend to suit any narrative… and could change upon a dime. And Kurapika, who had laid out his conditions in an orderly and transparent fashion, should have anticipated this before agreeing… How foolish.

"My best bet?" the blonde felt the need to repeat. In Nostrade's working field, he had dealt with quite a range of unsavory scum who lived to test his patience. And through all that experience, it astounded him to conclude how little self-restraint he had, dealing with this person in particular.

"How absurd," Kurapika stated. "As I find myself wanting nothing to do with you in particular."

There was a glint in those secretive dark orbs that betrayed just how dangerous this individual was despite his appearance. And the Kurta challenged it without a hint of hesitation, a hint of red peeking through his lowered eyelashes.

Then, snatching the plate from the table, he opted to place as much distance between them as he possibly could, stuffing a piece of cake in his mouth while doing so… simply out of spite.