Happy New Year and welcome back to The Assassin of Flowers~!
I honestly didn't think I'd be able to update this quickly, but I had way too much time on my hands so I decided to deliver another chapter for ya'll. Cover art was drawn by yours truly, by the way~ (except the flowers, 'cause I can't draw flowers to save my life ._.)
Enjoy! ^^
Shoutout to Clicksy for leaving a review (´ヮ`)ノ❤
〖 Chapter Two 〗
The Healer
'Now then…How should I get inside?'
He couldn't very well murder the guards, that was clear.
Sighing in disappointment, Killua left to scout other possible entry points, but there were none. All of the windows were closed, there were no balconies, and guards grouped into pairs or trios either blocked or hovered near every possible entrance and exit. It also didn't help that the castle's surrounding grounds were bare of trees or anything he could use to avoid detection if he intended to scale the walls.
It didn't even have any blind spots, since the shadowed corners and hidden crooks that usually appeared as a blind spot were deliberately illuminated by small but powerful ground-lights that directed their beams upward and against the walls, showcasing the castle in a way that seemed to mock him.
It rapidly dawned on Killua that Troné Keep wasn't just a castle fit for modern-day nobles; it was a near-impregnable fortress. His nerves prickled with unease. There has to be a way in. He refused to even entertain the thought that he had finally reached the limit of his abilities.
Huffing, Killua returned to the secondary entrance and partially concealed himself behind one of the neatly trimmed miniature evergreens on the edge of the garden. He took the tracking audio-receiver device out and confirmed that Mr. Graid was already inside the castle. The blinking blue dot representing Mr. Graid's secretary, Bergen, was currently in motion, indicating that the target was on the move as well.
Killua returned the device in his bag and thought of his older sister, who was notoriously known for her fondness of eliminating targets in front of many people, even in the middle of parties.
'If Nee-chan was here, how would she get in…Wait, she wouldn't even have this dilemma in the first place because she would've already gotten a perfect layout of the area! Aghhh, damn it! If only I had more time and material to work with…!' Killua buried his head in his hands and momentarily ruffled his hair in distress. Then he pressed his hands together and tucked the tips underneath his chin, eyes fixed glaring at the ground as he released a measured breath. 'I have to calm down. Remember what I've been taught. Use everything…and everyone at my disposal.'
Standing up and making his way toward the jovial celebration currently transpiring ahead, Killua's eyes raked through the gathering with thinly veiled malevolence. He stopped before he could fully mingle with the others. At that moment it felt as if a chasm had opened between him and the crowd, magnifying the disparity of his world and theirs.
He was embracing it now; how he did not belong, that he had nothing to do with them, that he was different from them in every way.
'If I kill one of them right now…I could take advantage of the ruckus.'
Killua took one step forward, then halted and grew still, as a trio of children younger than himself approached from his left, their animated banter and laughter filtering through the air as they ran towards him. His hand twitched, the tips of his nails smarting in anticipation to sharpen. They were so small, so vulnerable and defenseless. Such perfect little targets. It would be so easy. One quick swipe to get it over and done with. He would be so quick, and no one would even know it was him.
They advanced, closer and closer, while his arm hang taut beside him, hand curled slightly into half a fist, his fingers rigid and his knees locking as they finally, finally crossed his path.
And Killua let them pass, not even blinking against the sudden, fleeting gust of wind that trailed after their wake.
They were not the target.
He was a killer, indeed. But not an amoral mass-murderer.
"I'm a pro," he whispered decisively to himself. He lowered his eyes in self-admonition that he almost did what any amateur would've done.
He was about to walk away and re-calibrate his plans when he felt the purposeful presence of someone coming his way from directly in front of him.
"That's not a very festive face you're makin' there, little foreigner!"
Killua started at the familiar voice and the tacky accent.
'Urk. It's Crazy-haired Leis-seller!'
Although Killua felt compelled to re-christen him as Crazy-haired Flower Guy as he no longer looked like the leis-carrying vendor he was an hour ago. He was now dressed in the festival's full livery with his crazy hairstyle styled into an even crazier hairstyle, this time shaped like a giant five-petaled flower bunched neatly on the top of his head and secured by bright yellow beading.
Crazy-haired Flower Guy gave a hearty laugh in response to Killua's dumbfounded face. "I was looking for ya!" he said, as if that was enough to explain why he was suddenly there.
Killua instinctively reinforced his guard, even as he continued to stare bewilderedly at Crazy-haired Flower Guy. "Why?"
"I was wonderin' how you were holdin' up around here. Saw your white hair from way over there," he threw an arm indicating the direction he came from, "an' wandered over to say hi! Ya look mighty fine in 'ze costume, by the way! 'Ze Flower Dance will start soon an' 'ze children are gathering near 'ze pavilion!" Crazy-haired Flower Guy bent forward with his hands akimbo, concern puckering between his brows. "But you don't look like you're enjoying yourself, my little foreigner friend. I reckon' ya found your relatives, but you look lost. Did you lose 'em?"
Killua strained against his cheery barrage of words until his tone suddenly took on a different tempo when he stated his recent inquiry. He knew he had this guy's attention, but it was keener than he wanted it to be, keener than ever before.
"No," Killua answered while his mind worked to weigh the pros and cons of Crazy-haired Flower Guy's unexpected arrival. Killua was willing to overlook his uncanny meddling if he proved to be useful to him one more time.
He lifted an arm and pointed at the castle, Crazy-haired Flower Guy's eyes immediately latching onto the action.
"They're in there, actually."
"In 'ze Keep? Wowza! So you're with 'ze distinguished guests of 'ze Sytris family?" Crazy-haired Flower Guy asked giddily.
Killua scratched one finger against his cheek and adopted an embarrassed façade. "Uh, yeah. Guess I forgot to tell you earlier."
"Oh that's fine! But how come you are here? In 'ze outside?"
"They left me here for the Flower Dance," Killua answered wearily and slumped his shoulders. "But I'm scared because I don't know anyone here and I want to go to where they are. But I can't go inside without them, and they're already there, and I don't know how else to contact them!" Killua exclaimed plaintively. "I'm in a reeeeaaaalllll pinch here, mister."
"Really."
Crazy-haired Flower Guy uttered with a semblance of concern and surprise, but Killua felt the patronizing undertone of mockery in it. Like he knew something he didn't.
Killua's instincts told him to retreat. Which he intended to do if Crazy-haired Flower Guy no longer had any useful information to give.
On the inside, Killua sighed dejectedly at how tedious this was going to be.
On the outside, Killua sighed dejectedly to keep up the act. "Yeah. There's no way I can enter the castle by myself now, can I? Even if I tell them I'm actually with my relatives inside."
"Unfortunately so, little foreigner. I doubt they would even let you see your relatives, regardless if ya tell them who your relatives are. Quite tight, 'ze security in this estate. But that is to be expected," Crazy-haired Flower Guy replied with a shrug.
'Thought so.' Killua thought with resigned irritation. 'Oh well, at least I can finally ditch this guy.'
Crazy-haired Flower Guy barreled on. "I did say only 'ze distinguished guests are allowed in there. But ah! G'est si maud [Just as well]. We are free to enjoy tonight's party out here anyway. We beggars cannot be choosers, if I say so m—where are you going?"
"Gotta go. Thanks for all your help, mister!"
"Ehhhh, can't you stay a little longer an' join me?"
"'Fraid not. Good bye!"
"At least let me see ya off to 'ze Flower Dance. It's about to begin!"
But Killua already tuned him out as he explored his options on how best to proceed from here with all the constraints hampering his mission. He considered waiting for Mr. Graid to finish his business inside the castle. Then, once the target's outside, he'd wait for an opening in which he could finally assassinate him. Better yet, he could stand vigil at the hotel Mr. Graid was staying at, where there were less people, where they were away from the heart of the festival, and where he could finally eliminate the target in peace.
It hardly made a difference if the target was healed or not. Killua was going to make sure Mr. Graid wouldn't live to see another day before the night was over.
"What if I can get you inside?"
Killua would've missed it if he hadn't been acutely aware of Crazy-haired Flower Guy following after him.
He paused. And then, slowly, he turned to face the older male.
For the first time, Crazy-haired Flower Guy's face was stripped of the liveliness he displayed just moments ago, and was now regarding Killua with a contemplative solemnity that instantly roused the silver-haired boy's suspicions.
He felt like he was being studied, examined, like a bug underneath the scrutiny of a magnifying glass. Crazy-haired Flower Guy definitely knew something he didn't, something Killua was determined to find out. Depending on what it was, Crazy-haired Flower Guy's life now depended on it.
Internally, Killua glared coldly at him, asking, 'How? And why are you only saying this now?'
Externally, though, Killua made himself look at the older male like he was about to receive a whole box of ChocoRobo-kuns, asking, "You can!? You're not joking, are you?"
Crazy-haired Flower Guy looked smug as he gave him an answering grin. Then he whipped around and moved towards the castle's secondary entrance.
"Come with me an' find out."
Killua stood one step behind Crazy-haired Flower Guy who was currently having an animated conversation in Arzouguese with both of the guards at the entrance. Two things Killua learned from the exchange was that one; it appeared Crazy-haired Flower Guy's actual name was Emon, as revealed by one of the guards when they first approached (but Killua's sticking to calling him Crazy-haired Flower Guy because it suited him better) and two; it also appeared that he was acquainted with the two, and vice-versa, because they readily granted him access.
"Oh, and this kid's with me," he added, switching to the known language for Killua's convenience. "He's actually with some of 'ze guests inside so I'm just gonna bring him along. But ah! Don't tell anyone or I'll never hear 'ze end of 'ze other's complaints for not bringing them with me!"
He guffawed and the other two laughed heartily in response, clearly sharing his amusement.
"No problem. But I'm afraid we 'ave to check him first, Emon," one of them disclosed, eyes falling on Killua in an almost apologetic manner. "Protocol, as you know."
Crazy-haired Flower Guy nodded his head empathically. "Yev, yev, but of course! Man, you guys have it rough. Well, that is certainly not a problem."
He glanced down at Killua and flashed him an odd little tight-lipped smile. "Right, my little foreigner friend?"
"Yup. Fine with me." Killua nodded wearing a disarming smile, making the older male blink in surprise.
He let the straps slide from his arms and handed them his backpack. One of the guards took it and held it as the other inspected its contents. Even Crazy-haired Flower Guy leaned over to see what's inside and readily identified the objects one by one.
"A water bottle, wallet…a pack of candy…some sweets… yeesh, quite 'ze sweet-tooth!…there's Arzil's official guide book…sunglasses, and, oh! That's what he was wearin' earlier."
All the while, Killua stood-by with his hands on his back. On the outside, he adopted the visage of child-like impatience, occasionally bouncing on his feet and pouting. On the inside, however, he was giving himself multiple pats on the back for prudently deciding to leave his black assassination clothes and passport in a separate bag inside one of the many public lockers near Zueil's local government office, and for hiding the family transmitter and the tracking audio-receiving device with its corresponding ear-piece in places an average person wouldn't even think to examine.
He ceased moving as the three older males finally finished sifting through his backpack and turned their attentions on him. But contrary to Killua's expectations, they didn't body search him or even scan him with their metal detectors, and simply returned his backpack after ascertaining he was 'clean'. He wasn't certain whether they underestimated him because he was a child or if they trusted Crazy-haired Flower Guy enough to not bother with the full security procedure.
Either way, Killua was relieved they didn't. He disliked being touched by strangers.
"Now then, we best be off!" Crazy-haired Flower Guy said as he clapped a hand around Killua's shoulder and began to usher him inside. "See you later into 'ze night, my friends!"
Their merry replies faded in the distance as Killua and Crazy-haired Flower Guy advanced into the hall.
"Woah, you really did get us inside!" Killua said eagerly the moment they were out of earshot, hopping forward and successfully removing Crazy-haired Flower Guy's hand off his shoulder. He smoothed it over by twisting away to face the older male as he walked backwards. "You really are cool, mister!"
That drew a wide unabashed smile from Crazy-haired Flower Guy. "You ain't seen nothin' yet! 'Ze ballroom where 'ze other guests are is still a little ways into 'ze Keep, though. Come, let us head to where your relatives probably are."
"Okay!" Killua responded brightly.
With Crazy-haired Flower Guy's back turned to him, Killua allowed his faux-amiable façade to morph into something much sinister.
'I'm in. This place is huge, but it'll only be a matter of time before I find the target.'
He lifted his gaze and locked it unto Crazy-haired Flower Guy's back, deciding that he'd allow him to escort him for now and abscond once they were inside the Keep's central building. They reached the end of the hallway and crossed the threshold through the glass-paned doors that opened onto a sweeping veranda.
The veranda directly connected to the castle's inner courtyard, a spacious paved quadrangle filled with lush florae and native exotic blossoms, with two miniature ponds filled with jade-colored water and surrounded by ornamental rocks situated on opposite sides of the yard.
A cylindrical glasshouse containing a collection of plants and flowers stood at the center, splitting the main walkway into two as it diverged around it. A soft cyan light was glowing from within, providing an appealing contrast against the intermingling mesh of shapes and colors that shone through the frosted panes. Illuminating the entire yard was a quartet of large torches blazing at the far corners of the yard, while strings of fairy lights weaved through streams of colorful pennants across the open firmament.
A breeze whistled through them as they went around the glasshouse, carrying with it the thick perfume of flowers and greens and a hint of peat smoke.
The secondary entrance hall of the castle was quiet, as most of the activity was being held further inside. A footman was stationed near the wide double doors and welcomed the pair. He spoke to Crazy-haired Flower Guy in Arzouguese, who gave a spirited response as he reached for his back pocket to retrieve something before presenting it briefly to the footman, which revealed to be an ID card.
The object immediately seized Killua's attention while the footman bowed and ushered them to the central gallery leading to a grand stairway. Crazy-haired Flower Guy happily thanked the footman and tipped his head towards the gallery at Killua as if to say "Let's go!"
A new form of tension tightened all around Killua's body as he followed behind Crazy-haired Flower Guy, who led the way in a manner that portrayed he had been there before. All of a sudden the air surrounding his back seemed to shift as Killua became aware of the dangerous potential the older male seemed to possess all this time.
'This guy…he's not just this neighborhood's friendly crazy-haired flower seller.'
They ascended the grand stairway and entered another grand hall that opened to a row of four hallways. Crazy-haired Flower Guy strode over to the third hall on the left, where invisible tendrils of music drifted from.
"We're almost to 'ze grand ballroom. You saw 'ze giant building in 'ze middle from 'ze outside, didn't you? That's where 'ze distinguished guests are," Crazy-haired Flower Guy said over his shoulder.
"Heeeeh. I'm surprised you know your way around here, mister," Killua said with a hostile glint in his eyes. "I thought you said you've never been here before."
"I never said that," came Crazy-haired Flower Guy's chipper response.
Killua narrowed an eye as he raked over their conversation back at the café. It was true. He never did say he never entered the castle. He wanted to click his tongue but opted for a sheepish, "Really? I don't remember!"
Crazy-haired Flower Guy chuckled and grinned at him from over his shoulder. "But I don't go here during 'ze festival. I prefer to party outside with my outside buddies. 'Ze inside's too stuffy for me!"
Unease prickled at Killua's insides as they went deeper into the hall, where they passed by a couple of cornered arched wall niches, where gigantic marble vases filled to the brim with an assortment of flowers stood statuary as the sole ornaments. He was in and the target was close. There was no need for him to be in Crazy-haired Flower Guy's company any longer.
'I can find where the target is on my own now. But I have the feeling he's gonna suspect me if I tell him he doesn't need to show me where the ballroom is. Damn it, why am I even hesita—"
"So, I'm guessing 'ze relative you're looking for is Mr. Warren Graid."
It wasn't a question.
Killua stiffened, his legs staggering for a second before he planted them firmly on the ground. His heart began to pound with sickening force, every heartbeat seemingly screaming at him that just as he thought, Crazy-haired Flower Guy, Emon, was dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.
But he was also unbelievably weak.
In the next moment Emon found himself flung and shoved harshly into the closest arched niche, tucked slightly behind the giant vase. He fell on his rump and before he could even utter an 'ouch', a small but powerful hand flew to wrap itself around his neck.
Breathing hard, Emon made himself look at the child now towering over him and gulped as he met his lethal gaze.
"Move, and I'll kill you," Killua began, voice deadly calm and face devoid of emotion. "Make a sound, and I'll kill you. Nod if you understand."
Petrified, Emon managed a stiff nod.
"I knew you were hiding something. What you said just confirmed it," Killua said as he leaned and stared Emon hard in the eyes, tapping the tips of his knife-like nails against his quivering skin. "It makes me happy, actually, because I don't have to play nice with you anymore. Now, you only get to talk if I tell you to, do you understand?"
Another nod and a shaky intake of breath.
"If I sense you lying to me, I'll rip out your vocal chords and hang you on one those pointy things on the roof through the hole in your neck. Understand? Good. Tell me what you know."
Killua lessened his hold on the older male's neck by a fraction and Emon immediately gasped for air as if he had just finished running a mile.
"Answer," Killua prompted ominously. "And make it quick. I don't have time to waste with you anymore, mister."
"O-Okay," Emon started shakily as he held the younger male's penetrating gaze. An admirable feat, considering he was literally a hair's breadth away from forfeiting his life.
"To start, you and I…we have the same target. Ah, but, our services definitely differ! I-I am an informant, hired by 'ze head of 'ze Cariona family…I was on a stake-out at 'ze airport, waiting for Mr. Graid's arrival when I noticed you looking out for him also. One look at you an' I knew you weren't here for 'ze festival. You are definitely not one of us, but I reckon you are also not of theirs. An' so I got curious, interested…at what your purpose was, so I approached. " A wry, rueful smile curved Emon's lips as he continued. "I merely wanted to fill you in about 'ze festival at first, with a tiny bit of adjusting 'ze topic of course, until you confirmed my suspicions when you took a sudden interest in 'ze Hasereias, and more so when you spoke of healing and cures. I could only draw one conclusion from that."
Emon paused, breathed deep, before giving Killua a meaningful look that held a dash of smug certainty.
"You know about 'ze Healer, don't you?...Yes…she exists," he pressed as he saw surprise flicker across the silver-haired boy's eyes. "But 'ze Healer only exists to a select few…to people like Mr. Graid. You know what Mr. Graid is here for, an' you are here for him. That much, I have confirmed. That much, I know."
Killua held still, absorbing, dreading, as he took it all in. 'He got me…played me. Back then… the one who took all the information he could get…wasn't me!"
"An' so I filled you in about 'ze festival," Emon went on, appearing to gain some of his composure the longer Killua kept silent. "…about 'ze party, about 'ze dance, where to get what you need…all on purpose. All to get you here. I wanted to help, you could say."
Killua clamped his hand tighter around Emon's throat.
"What do you gain by 'helping' me?" he demanded, emphasizing the word 'helping' as if it were a profanity, before allowing the other male to speak again.
Emon sputtered before regarding Killua with a frankness that unsettled him. "Like I said. I was merely interested in you. Such a young little foreigner…pale as moonlight with white hair…all alone in another country… An' now that I know why you're here, I intend to help you. Because by doing so you are also helping me, in a way. An' my employer, too." His gaze turned grave. "We know, of course, that Mr. Graid is not a good man. My employer already set out pre-cautions, but she certainly did not call for the services of…" Emon trailed off, deliberately letting the last word hang for effect before conspiratorially adding, "…assassins."
Killua stewed in quiet menace, icy blue eyes unblinking and blade-sharp. But his thoughts were in chaos as it dawned on him that he had been completely outclassed and read like a book by this babbling native of a man with his crazy hair and kitschy accent.
"But by all means!" he clipped before Killua could react. "Dispose of 'ze guy. It's not my business what happens after that, anyway. I definitely won't try to stop ya." He flashed Killua an eat-shitting grin that made his eye twitch. "Consider it a pro helping another pro. Though technically I am your senior. Just not, uh…in 'ze killing arts. Those are 'zum killer hands you got, by 'ze way! No wonder ya don't need any weapons, eh?"
Killua tightened his hold once again and Emon fell obligingly silent.
He could kill him now, Killua realized. He sensed no guile behind Emon's words, but even if he had lied, what mattered was that he successfully gained access into the castle, even if it was through this foolish man. Assassination 101 dictates it would be opportune to eliminate an outsider, especially one who has seen him and known his identity, who's clearly lived out their purpose in his mission.
He gritted his teeth and demanded, "Does anyone else know about me? Anyone else of your buddies who saw me at the airport?"
"N-no, just me," Emon answered immediately. "There were two of us but my partner Jaku was too pre-occupied flirtin' with a pretty foreigner after sending our reports to 'ze madame. He's not very sharp when he gets side-tracked."
Killua narrowed his eyes. In the stark momentary silence that followed, Emon could see the progression of the boy's thoughts flitting across his haunting gaze.
'Elauna help me,' he thought.
Eventually, Killua's grip eased and he released Emon with a light shove.
"I'll let you off the hook. But if you tell anyone about me…" Killua broke off and shrugged as he prepared to take his leave. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. No one's gonna believe you anyway."
Emon rubbed at his neck with a low disbelieving laugh as he stared after Killua's retreating figure. "I knew you were a pro!" he praised with a short cough as he stood up. "Not gonna kill me unless someone pays for it, huh?"
"Don't push your luck," Killua spat. "Or I'll have to sharpen my nails before the main kill."
Emon made a noise that simultaneously sounded like he was both frightened and impressed. Sensibly he remained where he stood, only calling after the silver-haired boy when he was about three meters away from him.
"I'm guessing ya already know where to go so I guess this is where we part, but can I at least get your name, little azzakin [assassin]?"
Killua paused and turned to give him the sweetest most angelic smile he could muster.
"If I tell you, I'm going to have to kill you."
Then he vanished into thin air, making the older male take a double-take.
"Holy whack-a-mole tes'zad vem leor!? [what the hell!?]" He uttered the words so fast they seemed to bleed into one frantic word.
"This is gonna be one hell of a festa…" Emon murmured as he brought a hand against his forehead. A quick wondering laugh escaped him. "Elauna help us. I can't wait to see how 'ze night's gonna end for you, little azzakin."
It was to Emon's credit, Killua begrudgingly acknowledged, that he didn't try to ask who sent him, nor struggled when he was backed into a corner. Most, if not all, he threatened almost immediately retaliated in some way, but Emon took it all in stride. He remained calm where others might've begun begging for their lives, no doubt a testimony to his experience in the underworld and its unscrupulous inhabitants.
His encounter with Emon and the older male's unnatural reaction to him left a bitter taste in Killua's mouth, but that didn't matter now. He was in the mission's second phase.
And the target was close.
To be precise, the target was located on the other side of the castle which could only be accessed by passing through the ballroom. Its imposing double-doors concealed the bustle and symphonic discord of activities occurring behind it, with various shapes and shadows moving across the floor from what could be seen in the thin gap beneath the doors.
Once he's inside, Killua knew he would be traversing uncharted territory.
The vibrating rustling of plastic broke through his thoughts. Killua quickly moved behind one of the pillars in the hall and pulled his backpack over his torso before taking out the vibrating candy pack. Inside laid their family's personal transmitter and the tracking audio-receiver device with its corresponding earpiece.
Killua frowned as he held the blinking transmitter up to one ear. His hand clenched anxiously around the object as he thought who could be calling him at the moment.
'It couldn't be Aniki, could it?'
"Killu~!"
His eye tingled, but stirring behind his annoyance was relief. For the caller was none other than his older sister, Miumi.
"What is it?" Killua grounded out. "I'm still in the middle of the mission. This better be important, Miu-nee!"
It was no secret in their family that Miumi was the most eccentric Zoldyck. She was openly affectionate, sometimes sweet but mostly playful and very, very annoying, with a penchant to meddle in her brothers' affairs for no good reason. If this was one of those occasions, Killua was going to pretend she doesn't exist for a whole month once they see each other again.
"I know, I know. I'll be quick, Killu," came her sugary sing-song voice. "I'd hate for you to be shocked since Father refrained from informing you for some reason, but because I'm veeeery kind~ I called to inform you that Illu-nii is on his way to escort you home."
The news stunned him.
Killua grew hot and cold with anger and dismay.
He could hardly think and could barely hold still as he listened to his sister, who sounded uncharacteristically wistful.
"I wish it could've been me. I arrived two days after Illu did, who arrived approximately two hours after you left for Arzil. Sorry, Killu. But I'm afraid you only have a bit of time to spare before he reaches you there."
Killua heaved a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut. "I got it. Thanks, Nee-chan."
He didn't bother for a response and promptly cut the call.
When Killua opened his eyes again, he was standing in front of the grand ballroom's double-doors, feeling nothing save for the overwhelming thirst to kill as he pushed his palms flat against the rosewood paneling.
A tide of enthusiastic music flowed toward Killua like a physical thing the second he stepped inside the ballroom. Dozens upon dozens of people dressed in immaculate clothes that alluded to their status and wealth sashayed and hovered about, as an inexorable amount of noise – conversations, laughter, the clinking of glasses and silverware, the clicks and clacks of pointed heels and hurried footsteps – slurred across the air.
Killua surprisingly found it easy blending in. No one bothered to give him a second glance, too engrossed in their own affairs and the flurry of festivities that seemed to ensue from all directions to trouble themselves with a lone child wandering amongst them.
He weaved in and out of the crowd like a phantom, keeping his head low as he struggled to contain his temper which was rapidly escalating into bloodlust. Illumi's impending arrival served to spurn him to complete his mission with near-maniacal haste. He would not be deterred. Nor would he ever allow his brother to interfere with his first overseas mission.
He felt his shoulder accidentally brush against someone but that split-second contact barely registered at all.
And so Killua didn't bother gratifying whoever it was with a reaction.
He powered forward, silent and elusive as a ghost, with no inkling as to what he just set in motion in the budding trail he left behind.
Three rooms down.
That was Killua's current position away from the target. He was in a dark, unoccupied medium-sized private parlor, sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the upholstered settees. Regrettably, it was the nearest he could get.
Two men stood sentry by the door leading into a private drawing room. Killua recognized one of the men as part of Mr. Graid's bodyguards, while the other appeared to be with the woman who accompanied Mr. Graid into the room. The madame, head of the Cariona family, the Healer's family, Killua guessed.
Obviously the business to be conducted inside was of significant import to both parties.
And as Killua had been tuning in, they were finally getting into it. There was an awkward, dumbfounded silence at first, which Killua surmised that Mr. Graid and his secretary were faced by something they hadn't expected.
"This is…the Healer?" He heard Bergen say.
There was a rustling, and Killua heard a faint beeping noise before he heard the woman's reply, her voice matter-of-fact and collected, the accent refined.
"Yes. As I have told you, she is my youngest. I beg your pardon not to let her appearance deceive you of what she's capable of."
"Yes…yes, of course." It was Mr. Graid who spoke this time, his voice sounding a little distant and uncharacteristically polite. "It's just this is the first time I've seen it in person. This is your nation's eye-trait, right? The…what do you…"
"The 'Hasereias', sir," Bergen supplied.
"Ah, yes…the 'Hazereyaz'."
'Wow he completely butchered that one.' Killua thought as he bit into a candy bar. He would've loved to see how the Arzillian natives reacted to that.
"I presume it has something to do with her powers?" Mr. Graid added.
"The matter is hardly important, Mr. Graid. I'm sure you would rather experience them for yourself, rather than discuss about it."
Her cool response elicited a dry chuckle from the ailing old man and a tiny smirk from Killua.
"Of course, of course. That is what I came here for, after all."
"Before that, there are only two conditions left to fulfill in order for her power to work at its full capacity. And as you've already done the requirements per my instructions, I believe there should be no problems for you to attain your desire, Mr. Graid."
"You believe? Not certain?" Mr. Graid asked, voice nearly accusatory.
"Yes. As I've, once again, told your secretary, my daughter's powers depend a great deal on one's undertakings. In this case, we believe, one's karma. But you have nothing to fear if you fulfilled my instructions, Mr. Graid. That is why I believe you will achieve your desire faster than you were ever able to before. Your chances improved…by at least ninety percent."
The woman's statements were met with silence. Killua had no doubt that just like himself, Mr. Graid and his secretary were struggling to take in what she just said.
"…All right, we shall see," Mr. Graid finally said with a touch of ire. "I've not come this far to back out now."
"Excellent. Please allow my daughter to accompany you for dinner, Mr. Graid. This is so you could get acquainted and fulfill the conditions, of course. Afterwards, we may proceed with the main event, after the conditions have been met."
"No problem at all," Mr. Graid replied, sounding polite and amicable one again. "I hope the young lady won't be troubled by having to accompany a sick old man, when it looks like she'd rather be outside, dancing."
"I assure you, Mr. Graid. She is well-aware of her duties. Isn't that right, daughter?"
It took a while before he heard the response, and Killua had to strain his already sensitive hearing to make sure he didn't miss anything.
And then he heard something he wasn't entirely prepared for, even when he already knew what the Healer was like.
Her voice. Clear and lingering in the air, soft and mechanical in its cadence as she uttered two words:
"Yes, Ammi [Mother]."
The Healer's mother left the private drawing room with the assurance to bring up a dinner tray for Mr. Graid to enjoy. Only he, Bergen, the Healer, and another of the Cariona's men remained inside.
To Killua's eternal chagrin, it appeared that Mr. Graid and the Healer had relocated further into the room, as he could no longer pick up their conversation clearly. The only sounds the ear-piece transmitted in the past five minutes were a bunch of muffled words, the target's infernal coughing, more rustling, and the occasional flipping of pages from a book.
Soon he heard the tell-tale noises of wheels running along the floor, with the clatter of silver and ceramic, which could only belong to the tray of dinner the Healer's mother had sent up.
And while they were oh so enjoying themselves, it was back to the waiting game again for Killua.
By the time they finally proceeded with the healing of Mr. Graid, Killua sat upright, waiting in apprehension at the lengthy silence that ensued.
And then came a gasp from Bergen.
"What is this? This…shaking in the air?"
"A phenomenon caused by my daughter's power," the Healer's mother answered readily. "I assure you, Mr. Bergen. It is not dangerous. On the contrary, this means that her power is now at work."
Goosebumps rose over Killua's skin in response to some invisible force that rippled in the air. Something warm yet alarming. The sensation was light and barely even tickled, and he wondered what it was like for the others who were actually inside the room with the Healer.
Killua frowned pensively, unable to wrap his head around the existence of such powers. His thoughts flickered over to his younger brother Alluka, who was also born with the ability to perform impossible feats. He always thought of him as special, the only one he knew who was blessed with such gifts. But now there was someone else capable of doing what Alluka could. What do these powers mean? Where do they come from?
Bergen's rapid footsteps shot through the silence. "Sir…! How do you feel?"
A crackle, and then the target's dry, humorless chuckle. "The same. Did you not promise me a fast recovery, Madame Cariona?"
Killua didn't need to be in the same room to sense the tension that descended upon them.
"I promised nothing." It was the woman's voice, controlled and cool, slicing through the rigid air like a sword. "However, it is to our knowledge that the results are usually swift, and varies depending on the person subjected to my daughter's power. It is not instantaneous."
"So now I have to wait for days, weeks…months…to see the results!?"
"Yes, as everyone before you had done. And as the nature of your desire is pertaining to your health, I advise you to refrain from travelling for a while, Mr. Graid."
"Are you making a fool out of me!? I expected more than this! I did everything you've asked of me, every damned charitable thing I could think of before I came to this place. I even donated hefty sums of money, damn it! I refuse to believe this is it. You must be hiding some other process from me!"
The Healer's mother continued, unfazed. "I assure you, there is no other process, Mr. Graid. As you've already heard, President Hughgar's wife went through the same procedures and was able to attain her desire, her full recovery from terminal ovarian cancer, in a span of three months."
In the midst of the Healer's mother's reply, Killua heard the shuffling of feet and clothing, and the target's labored breathing. It seemed Bergen had gone closer to assist him.
"If you would give it some time—"
"I don't have the time! If I had, I wouldn't even be here! Do you understand!?"
Her impeccable composure was admirable. "Mr. Graid, I assure you—"
"Assurance this, assurance that! I'll take my damned assurance!"
Before the target had even finished, Killua heard the sharp audible 'swoosh' of movement and a tiny frightened gasp. It was the Healer. And Killua's eyes widened as he understood she had just been accosted and likely taken hostage.
A clutter and Bergen yelled, "Don't move! Stay where you are!"
More shuffling and rustling, footsteps thumping, but it was the Healer's feeble whimper that Killua's ears had oddly been attuned to.
"What are you doing?" the Healer's mother demanded calmly but she might as well have been shouting with the intensity of her voice. "Release my daughter at once."
"She's coming with me until I'm healed. I'll be damned if I leave this blasted place without a guarantee, after everything I did!"
A loud crash from the outside, followed by a surging chorus of gasps and cries of surprise that came from within and outside the castle.
The electricity had been cut. Now would've been the perfect opportunity to deliver his assassination but Killua found he couldn't move. He heard everything in the darkness – glass breaking, furniture falling, profanities blaring, frantic struggling, a heated volley of Arzouguese words – and he listened with frightened eyes.
'What the hell is going on!?'
In the next moment Killua heard people running along the hallway.
"We're heading to the tunnels now, sir. Our contact is already there with the others," Bergen said sotto voce before adding in a harsh whisper, "Quit your struggling! Don't even think about trying to— Shit they're already here. Go! I'll take the girl, you get Mr. Graid out of here! Their guards are already swarming the place!"
A muffled reply accompanied by angry gibberish in the near distance. A door was opened and closed with near thundering force, the abrupt, scratchy noise being transmitted into the ear-piece mingling jarringly with its real-time incidence.
Killua turned his head towards the door with wide-eyed, predatory anticipation. Of all the rooms Bergen chose to hide in, it was the one where he currently was. He remained concealed in the shadows as multiple footsteps passed by the door outside.
His vision had long since adjusted to the dark, and he could see Bergen's heaving figure huddled near the door, clutching the Healer against his side with one hand pressing a sharp, transparent plastic blade against her cheek.
"Scream, and I'm going to gouge one of your eyes out," he told her, his hold tightening. "You can still heal with one eye, can't you? Or how about I take both of your eyes if you don't cooperate."
There was no response from the Healer. She remained motionless, her eyes wide but impassive, as if she reverted into a doll. And she could easily pass off as one, with her long and wavy waist-length hair framing her soft-featured face. The colors of her hair and eyes were indiscernible in the dark, but they were light-colored, including her lashes. Even her outfit consisted of light-colored materials, from her flowy midi dress with soft puff sleeves, down to the pair of block-heeled Mary-Jane shoes with ankle straps on her feet.
Curiously, not a single flower could be found on the Healer, making her more and more out of place in light of their country's current season. It was almost like she was nothing more than an antique ivory glass doll who had been temporarily released from her gilded glass cabinet just for the night.
Killua couldn't help but wonder what the matter with her was. She didn't even look remotely alarmed, her expression stamped with lamblike hardness. She couldn't have been older than he was, and from what he gathered (first-hand experience notwithstanding) most girls her age would've burst into tears or broke into hysterics by now.
It seemed Bergen shared his sentiments because he jostled her, annoyed at the lack of reaction. He swerved to approach the windows, the stained glass panes gleaming with contained light that came from reflecting the glowing embers of multiple torches and bonfires outside, providing the barest of illuminations inside the room.
He yanked the Healer with him and forced her to face the world outside the windows, leaning down so their faces were level, side by side.
"You might wanna say good-bye to this place now. 'Cause you're never coming back."
In the heavy silence that followed, Killua removed the ear-piece from his ear and placed it back into his bag as he released an inaudible sigh of annoyed resignation. The mission had taken an unexpected, troublesome turn. He had no doubts he would see it to completion, however, and yet something in the air was stirring with an unfurling, insistent disquiet, like the calm before the storm.
Killua brought a hand up and manipulated it, examining his sharp nails in the same way he contemplated his next course of action. 'He's been separated from the target so he's useless now. I can kill him. But if I do that, it'll take too much time trying to find the target in this place and I don't even know where the tunnels are…Guess I can let this guy off the hook for now and follow them. And then, I'm gonna exterminate the target and his flunkies in one fell swoop. But that girl…well, I'm just doing my job. Not my problem if she sees what I'm about to do. She wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place! Ugh, this sucks big time. Why do I even care?'
"M-Mr. Graid…he will d-die."
Killua and Bergen stiffened, their eyes shooting to pin the Healer questioning looks.
'I mean…that's what I'm here for. How'd she know?' Killua thought as he crept his head along the edge of the settee.
Bergen spun her around and shook her by she shoulders as he asked, "What are you talking about? You just healed him, didn't you!?"
The Healer answered him after a moment of hesitation, her voice small and stammering but composed, her accent weaving delicately along the vowels, "He b-bring mis…misfortune…on him…s-self…Bad acts…turn into bad…b-bad luck."
Bergen appeared stunned, the lean form of his silhouette trembling as he struggled to keep his temper from exposing where they were.
"He's a piece of shit…but he's like a father to me," he said in a low, guttural voice. "It doesn't matter what you say because you're coming with us and you're going to heal him, do you hear me!?"
The Healer said nothing in response, only gave the infuriated man before her a disconcerted blink, but Killua saw the gradual change of her expression, the slow lowering of her eyebrows, the subtle softening of her mouth, her gaze steady and searching, and...was she regarding him with pity?
"He…will…die…" she said, enunciating each word with grave emphasis.
There was no ill-intent behind her words, only detached sincerity.
Enraged, Bergen grabbed her harshly by the scruff of her neck. She winced, shrinking away from him, not out of fear, Killua saw, but in antipathy.
"Shut up! He's not going to die!" Bergen seethed as he clamped his other hand around the front of her throat, his fingers pressing sharply into the indent of her lower jaw. The girl gasped, straining against his iron grip as they locked tighter and tighter. "I've had enough of you…I regretted not having any chloroform with me but I'm not regretting it now. Pray I don't accidentally kill you, brat. Though at this point I don't give a damn anymore, I knew this healing business was going to be a sham!"
She was choking on air, or from the lack of it, and Bergen seemed to take perverse delight in the small, helpless noises that escaped her. She clawed at his wrists, eyelashes fluttering heavily before she finally squeezed them shut, her mouth trembling and steadily growing lax, her agitated movements losing their vigor.
All at once she was released as Bergen inhaled sharply. Something had spooked him, the Healer realized dazedly as she rapidly breathed in deep lungfuls of air, her hands reaching up to soothe her aching neck. He still kept a firm hand on her nape and turned around, bringing her with him, as he surveyed the room with wary eyes. There was only the ominous silence, and yet somehow it became heavy inside the room, like something just came alive.
Bergen didn't fail to see the movement of an additional shadow in the gathering darkness of the room. He craned his neck to it and saw Killua, whose form was no less substantial than a hazy white figure amidst the blackness.
"What the…" Bergen drawled, squinting his eyes while the girl grew very still in his grasp. "You trying to be scary or something, kid? How'd you even—"
Bergen broke away from the Healer with a pained cry. She toppled to the floor and scrambled away on all fours from his hunched over figure. He was clutching at his side, cursing and heaving as multiple drops of dark liquid fell by his feet in large, splattering dollops.
"Little shit…! Come out!" Bergen demanded in between clenched teeth.
The acrid stench of fresh blood permeated sharply into the air. She almost gagged. The Healer covered her nose and mouth with a palm and slowly stood up, shaking and unsteady like a newborn fawn. She made for the door but halted in her tracks just as Bergen reared back in alarm when a small white blur descended upon him.
Time froze and flowed slowly for the Healer. Her breath caught in her throat as the room fell away, her vision dimming, narrowing, zeroing in on the ghostly, near-pearlescent figure of Killua. He appeared to hover on air whilst delivering another strike against Bergen. Multiple colorful petals – that had likely been dislodged by his movements – fell from his flower crown, gliding and lingering around him in soft floaty motions, providing a striking contrast with the rigid coldness of his face and the diabolical brightness of his blue, blue eyes.
Those blue eyes abruptly connected with hers then, and time resumed with its rightful pace again. He landed on his feet without a sound just as Bergen's lifeless body touched the floor with a resounding thud. The capering firelight outside mingling with the stained windows' multi-colored panes gave the silver-haired boy's outline an eerie glow. His otherworldliness was further supplemented by the scattering of blood that littered the floor at his feet like morbidly shaped flowers.
Their gazes held and she started, not in fright, but as if she'd been electrified with something warm, spreading from the pit of her stomach and shooting everywhere in her body, down to the tips of her toes up to the tiny curled stalk of hair on top of her head.
'It's you…!' her heart cried as she struggled to say something, anything at all. But her heart was beating too fast and too loud in her own ears, it was impossible to form a coherent sentence in her native tongue, let alone in the known language.
A light scraping noise broke through the charged silence and their gazes shot to Bergen, whose hand moved to deliver one last attack on his silver-haired assailant. In one quick motion he had succeeded in stabbing the boy with his plastic blade, the tip tearing into the pale skin just above his ankle.
Killua didn't even flinch. He kicked Bergen's hand away and briefly examined the wound, where two meager trails of blood began to slide down into his shoes. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and shot the girl across from him a slitted glance.
"Why are you still standing there? You can leave now," he said offhandedly as he turned to submerge himself deep into the shadows just as echoes of agitated shouting filled the hallway outside the door.
The Healer flinched the moment he spoke but she didn't leave. She stepped forward and searched for his indistinct form in the darkness. She heard the sound of rustling, the sound of a zipper opening. She turned and moved towards it, and unceremoniously tripped forward when her knee caught against furniture.
She pushed herself upwards with a tiny grunt and gasped softly when she saw small droplets of blood by her hand. She saw another cluster nearby, and another, leaving a sparse but discernible trail on the floor that led into the one of the settees.
Trembling slightly, the Healer approached the settee, her heart thumping and her skin tingling like never before. She moved cautiously, as one might when about to interact with a wounded animal.
She gingerly climbed unto the settee, pressing her knees into the cushions, and all movement ceased.
"U-umm, e-excuse me…!" she ventured before swallowing and peering into the dark recesses beyond the settee's edge.
Killua stood up and she jolted back, her eyes chasing over his form until they locked eyes again. He stared at her, puzzled. Why was she still here?
She astonished him further when she suddenly beamed at him, and it made Killua feel so uneasy he actually had to take a step back. She was giving him a weird, weird look, and it reminded of his mother's smothering fawning regard. The only difference was that she wasn't smiling widely, exactly, much like how Kikyo does, but rather the way her face was lighting up, held that way by an alarming amount of tenderness and fascination.
Furthermore, he could actually see this girl's eyes. He had already seen how light-colored they were earlier, but they were even remarkable up close. Big, slightly droopy at the outer corners, and heavily lashed. Pretty and unnerving eyes that made him feel as if she could see his insides.
Killua narrowed his eyes incredulously as he remembered what Emon said about the Healer, who was also this generation's singular possessor of their country's Hasereias.
'Is that what it's supposed to look like?'
He was prevented from thinking further about it when she finally spoke, the adoring look she was giving him melting away (thankfully) as she carefully strung the words in the known language in a way that conveyed she rarely uses it.
"Y-you are wounded," she said, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. "I-is small b-but...blood…!"
Killua frowned and she quickly brought her hands together, fidgeting in place with her knees tucked underneath her as she kneeled before him on the settee. Done with retrieving his backpack and the situation with the Healer in general, Killua hopped over the upholstered frame that separated them.
He landed just behind the girl, who quickly twisted to face him. He spared her a glance and saw her gaze on his wounded ankle, which had already stopped bleeding. She looked up to stare at him again, still looking worried, making his eye twitch. It was just a tiny cut. His own family wouldn't even turn a hair every time he bled. In fact, they praised him for it. And Killua didn't know which annoyed him more; that fact or this girl's unnecessary concerns.
"It doesn't hurt," he said begrudgingly. He'd be damned if he ever led her to think he was hurting from such a small wound.
The Healer blinked at him and stood slowly, her face lighting up with relief.
At that moment the blaring noises of people yelling and doors being opened erupted outside the hallway. It seemed as if the raid for the intruders had finally begun.
The Healer's eyes went wide and she began to mutter a few troubled-sounding words in Arzouguese as she focused in on Killua with newfound worry. She threw a quick glance at Bergen's corpse before closing in on him, her eyes shining with determination.
With a speed that caught him off-guard, the Healer grabbed Killua by the wrist and pulled him with her to the door. They burst out into the hall, where they were immediately detected by a group of people calling out for them with dozens of light beams shining their way but the Healer didn't stop, didn't even falter.
"You must hide!" she whispered sharply to him. "I-if they find you, they will not let you go!"
She twisted briefly to smile at him, the gesture wobbly and timid, but resolute.
And it made Killua's skin crawl.
"I will help you!"
To be continued…
A/N:
I got waaaay much into this, seeing as the word-count reached an astounding 10,000+ words when I initially intended for it to be around 7,000+ words like the last chapter lmao. How'd that happen? o.o
That said, the next chapter will definitely be longer and packed with more action than this one ;)
Tidbits Time~!
[1] Known Language – So there're about 200 languages in the world of Hunter x Hunter, right? Arzouguese is definitely one of them, and while I'm fully aware that the 'universal' language they use was based off from real-life Japanese characters or Kana, I have no idea what they call it ._. So I'm gonna throw in a bone and call it the Known Language, as in the official widely-spoken language of the Known World. I also have this headcanon that the people in the HxH universe were taught how to be proficient in the 'universal' language alongside their native languages. Quite similar to how we're taught to be proficient in English, which is arguably considered as our universal language, alongside our respective mother tongues.
[2] Miumi's Phonecall Appearance – Okay I know I mentioned last chapter that Miumi's not gonna make a cameo appearance in this story, but does a phonecall appearance count tho? Welp! Somebody had to tell Killua of Illumi's inevitable arrival/meddling so it might as well be Miumi who likes to meddle in everyone's business lol.
[3] Alluka – By this time, Killua still remembers Alluka as Illumi didn't implant a needle in him yet. But oh, he will. Sooner than later, in fact. Just wanna make that clear (* ื▿ ื)
I'm actually veeeery inspired with this story right now (I'm definitely coming out of my hiatus with a vengeance) so ya'll can expect another update coming very soon.
In the meantime, let me know what ya'll think about what went down in this chapter! =D
[Date Updated]: January 20, 2021.