Okay peoples viewer discretion is recommended here, TRIGGER WARNING for intense dissociation.
"So, what you're saying is that people tend to categorize others based on their current social standing, like workplace, fashion sense and personal conduct?" Illumi asked, taking another slice of orange and nibbling on it thoughtfully.
Once Hisoka had finished his business around the city, the two had returned to Heaven's Arena and were now sitting on the floor together, discussing the intricacies of social class and how it affected people over a bowl of fruit. Illumi found it all extremely fascinating. He had no idea society functioned by categorizing people. It all seemed pointless to him, but it was still intriguing nonetheless.
"Precisely. You see, darling, people like putting other people into boxes. Labeling them. Not being able to label someone because they don't fit any one stereotype is unsettling to most, hence why people don't seem to like you very much." Hisoka explained, grinning playfully. He intentionally reached for another piece of fruit at the same time Illumi did, allowing his fingertips to graze the back of the assassin's wrist for a split second. "You don't really fit any of the generic stereotypes, you know."
"How petty." Illumi pulled his hand away and shot Hisoka a warning glare. "I don't know if I should care about this or not. Is it important to fit certain stereotypes?"
"No, not really. If I'm being completely honest with you, the labels people put on other people are completely pointless. They serve absolutely no purpose other than giving us a reason to judge each other." Hisoka replied, popping the grape he'd selected from the bowl into his mouth.
"Huh. Maybe this is why my parents never taught me things regarding social interaction. It's so... unnecessarily complicated." Illumi grimaced, plucking a small piece of banana from the bowl and turning it over in his hands before eating it. "I personally do not see a real reason for this type of human categorizing to exist."
"Me neither, hun. You're not the only one. Society functions differently than people like us. We tend to lurk on the outside looking in because regular people make no sense to us. And, in return, they basically label us as freaks and shun us." Hisoka's amber eyes glittered with a murderous light. It was obvious something had gotten him all excited because Illumi could sense the tiniest bit of bloodlust seeping out of him. "That's why I like this place. It's how I show all of them what I'm made of. I don't need other people's worthless opinions to be successful."
Illumi blinked a couple times, staring at the magician with what appeared to be vast interest. "I'm sensing some kind of story here." he said, after a brief pause.
"I'm from Meteor City, darling. I spent the early years of my life being tossed around like a worthless piece of trash. As such, I know a thing or two about being cast out by my own species." Hisoka replied, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket and beginning to shuffle it with expert coordination. He seemed to know exactly how to bend the cards in such a way that they appeared to dance between his fingers, giving the little display a hypnotic effect.
Illumi only just barely managed to keep his eyes off the fast-moving cards in Hisoka's hands. Something about the magician's words had really resonated with him for some reason. Illumi felt something deep inside of him stir. Something welling up in his chest. He was feeling something.
He blanched and looked down at the floor, suddenly extremely intimidated by the idea of meeting Hisoka's burning amber gaze.
"If you don't mind, could you tell me more about that? I don't think you've ever told me about your childhood before, and I must admit I am very intrigued." Illumi said, clearing his throat and doing his best to play off whatever the hell had just happened to him. That heavy feeling in his chest didn't go away. It stayed right where it was, lingering there, like a nightmare creeping in on the edge of his consciousness.
"Hmm, I don't usually talk about that sort of thing. Nobody's ever been interested in what I was before I got all fancy." Hisoka raised one eyebrow, rearranging his cards into a neat pile and leafing through them, being careful not to scratch them with his dangerously sharp fingernails.
"Well, I am. Everyone's got a story, right?" Illumi crisscrossed his legs, eyeing the bowl of fruit directly in front of him and briefly debating with himself as to whether or not he should grab another piece. He decided against it and leaned back a bit, returning his gaze to Hisoka's.
The magician was silent for a moment, pulling the red joker from his deck and setting it aside. "I'll make you a deal, then. I'll tell you something about me if you tell me something about you."
Illumi considered it for a second and nodded his agreement. "Deal."
"Well, as you already know, Meteor City is a really trashy place. In fact, I don't think it even deserves to be called a city at this point, it's mostly a garbage heap where people try to live their lives." Hisoka located the other joker in the deck and laid it alongside the first. He began shuffling his cards again, watching the assassin out of the corner of his eye. "I don't really remember much of it, in all honesty. I just know that living there, growing up there automatically meant you were weak and disgusting in the eyes of other people who had been born into wealthier, more fortunate realities."
"Oh!" Illumi's abysmal black eyes lit up as the realization dawned on him. "So that's how you know so much about social class. You literally had to claw your way up to the higher parts of it, didn't you?"
Hisoka's lips twitched upward. "Precisely. And that's also one of the reasons I enjoy fighting people stronger than I am. I'm used to being the weakest of the weak, the lowest of the low. In fact, I know exactly what it is to be considered human scum unworthy of being alive. A waste of space. As such, I feel the need to go out and prove that I'm the best. That everyone who ever told me I wouldn't amount to anything was wrong." he explained, spreading his cards out across the floor, forming a half circle around him. He counted them all carefully to make sure they were all still there before gathering them up again.
Illumi watched this almost ritualistic behavior with wide, curious eyes, processing everything he had just been told.
Human scum.
Unworthy of being alive.
A waste of space.
"Your turn." Hisoka said, shrugging noncommittally. "What's something you remember about growing up?"
"Well... my parents have always been belittling me in the same way people belittle you, but for different reasons. My parents don't do it because of where I was born. They do it because they want to motivate me to do better, to be better. They just want me to live up to my full potential and become one of the most dangerous assassins on the planet." Illumi began wringing his hands as if nervous, grimacing as that uncomfortable feeling sitting in his chest became a lot more prominent than before. "Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself."
"Hmm. I can't imagine what it must be like, having parents that are constantly breathing down your neck like that." Hisoka tilted his head to one side, making sure his deck was thoroughly shuffled before handing it to Illumi. "Take these and tell me what you notice about them."
Illumi took the cards without hesitation, ignoring the way Hisoka's fingers intentionally brushed against the back of his hand as he did. At first glance, the deck looked completely normal. Not a single card was missing, with the exception of the two jokers that were still sitting beside Hisoka. But Illumi knew better than to assume the cards were normal. He tested their weight and experimentally ran his finger along the edge of one. He was not surprised when the card cut into his finger. He set the deck aside and showed Hisoka the bead of crimson forming on the pad of his forefinger.
"The cards have a serrated edge. They're also weighted in such a way they are perfectly balanced, making them ideal long-distance weapons." Illumi stated, returning the deck to Hisoka.
"Yes, exactly. All my cards are like that. But they all started out as normal playing cards. I set them up as weapons myself when I was twelve or thirteen years old." Hisoka replied, finding the card Illumi had nicked his finger on so he could lick the small streak of crimson blood off the edge. He gestured to the glass coffee table behind Illumi and added, "I noticed something similar about your needle when I picked it up earlier."
"Oh?" Illumi couldn't help glancing over his shoulder, making sure the needle he'd left on the coffee table was still there. Satisfied that it was, he returned his attention to Hisoka.
"At first glance, it is just a needle fashioned from a very expensive metal, infused with just enough Nen to be sensed from a long distance but not enough to arouse suspicion. But, because you are a Manipulator, I know better to assume that a needle is just a needle." Hisoka grinned. "We are a lot more similar than you think we are, darling. We've both got a thousand and one tricks up our sleeve, we both come from somewhat unfavorable conditions..."
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm nothing like you." Illumi scoffed, turning up his chin and making a point to avoid direct eye contact with the magician. He hated to admit it, but his discomfort had nothing to do with Hisoka. It had everything to do with the emotion fluctuating in his chest. The emotion he wasn't supposed to have.
Hisoka sighed and folded his hands behind his head, watching the assassin with a curious glimmer in his eyes. "I'm guessing your parents told you that you aren't allowed to relate to anyone."
Illumi decided not to answer, choosing instead to get up and move from the floor to the couch, putting a comfortable amount of distance between himself and Hisoka. Maybe if he avoided the magician for long enough, he would return to normal. He wasn't supposed to feel anything at all. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had experienced emotion.
But somehow, something Hisoka said had caused Illumi to feel something.
The young assassin knew he absolutely could not go back to his parents now, because if they found out he'd allowed his impassive mask to slip even for a single millisecond, they would never let him out of their sights ever again. He was surprised to find that he didn't want to lose what little freedom he had.
We are a lot more similar than you think we are.
Despite the distance between them, Hisoka's words reverberated around within Illumi's skull loud and clear, as if they had only just been spoken.
In fact, I know exactly what it is to be considered human scum unworthy of being alive. A waste of space.
Illumi sighed and doubled over, clasping his head between his hands as if it were about to split wide open. There was something about the way Hisoka had said those things that really bothered him in a way he couldn't describe. Maybe it was the way Hisoka's playful tone had dropped, replaced by something much more somber. His musical voice had reflected a sort of loneliness and neglect that Illumi... understood?
"Are you alright, Illu-chan? You seemed to be in a hurry to get away from me, but now you just look like you've got a headache." Hisoka called out, from his perch on the floor.
Illumi ignored him, trying and failing to concentrate. What was it that he had felt a few moments ago? He knew he felt something but he didn't understand what it could be. It had been so long since he had felt anything at all that he had no idea how to determine what he was experiencing.
It had been painful, but not physically so. It was heavy and black and uneasy, churning within him restlessly like the sea during a storm. It was almost like it wanted something. What did it want? Why was he feeling it in the first place?
No, no, no... this is all wrong...
"Illumi?" Hisoka's voice was a lot closer than before. Suddenly his hand was on Illumi's shoulder, shaking the assassin lightly in an attempt to snap him out of whatever dazed stupor he had entered.
Illumi came to in an instant, slapping Hisoka's hand away and jabbing a finger at him accusingly. "I thought I told you earlier not to touch me."
"Ah, there you are. You were being awfully quiet just a moment ago, I almost thought you were sick or something." Hisoka grinned, holding out his hands in an innocent gesture. "Seems you're back to your normal self again. Yay."
"Assassins don't get sick. What do you want?" Illumi glared at the magician suspiciously, all thoughts regarding whatever he'd felt a few moments ago forgotten for the time being.
"I wanna know why you were completely unresponsive just a second ago." Hisoka replied, evenly. "I called your name at least six times, you know. The only way I could get through to you was by physically shaking you. Hence why you had to slap me."
"Six times?" Illumi suddenly felt like his stomach had been turned inside out. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine, I just... didn't hear you."
Illumi knew it was a poor and honestly unbelievable excuse, but he couldn't think of anything else to explain why he had spaced out so hard he had become completely unaware of his surroundings. Maybe something was wrong with him.
"What about your issue with your parents? Are you planning on going home anytime soon?" Hisoka questioned, leaning forward and propping his chin up on his fist.
"No, I'm afraid not. I can't go back to them just yet." Illumi sighed, painfully aware of the way Hisoka was looking at him. He could feel the way those glittering amber eyes were tracing over every inch of his form, studying him, admiring him like he was some sort of porcelain doll. "I've got something else to figure out before I can return home."
"Ah. I'm alright with that. You can stay here as long as you need." Hisoka smiled, still eyeing the ravenet with unfettered interest.
"Hmm. Are you okay with letting me sleep in that one closet I found for the time being, then?" Illumi asked.
"I still don't see how you find that comfortable, but yes."
"Whoever said it was comfortable?"
"Usually people tend to fall asleep when and where they are most comfortable, darling."
"Do they really?"
Hisoka snickered. "You're so naïve it hurts, Illu-dear. Don't tell me you've been cramming yourself into shelves in dark closets because it somehow provides you with some sort of tactical advantage as an assassin."
"Maybe it does. I haven't had time to test that out yet. I just don't like sleeping in beds. It's too predictable." Illumi reasoned, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "Besides, I like the dark. It's... comforting."
"How interesting. You really are a strange one. Well, the guest bedroom is still very much available to you in the odd event that you change your mind." Hisoka said, offering Illumi a friendly grin.
The assassin blinked a couple times and nodded. "Noted. Thank you."
In all honesty, Illumi wasn't sure exactly what had prompted him to ask Hisoka if he could stay with him in Heaven's Arena. It wasn't like Illumi couldn't find somewhere else. He usually gave the money he made off assassinations to his parents, but he hadn't come back home from his latest job yet, so he had more than enough money on him to stay virtually anywhere.
He hated to admit it, but there was something enticing about Hisoka. Maybe it was how flamboyant and headstrong his personality was. Maybe it was because of how useful and helpful he had been in the past. Or maybe it was because the way he looked at Illumi made the young assassin feel... warm.
It wasn't physical warmth as in temperature. It was more of a mental sense of warmth that Illumi didn't really understand. Warmth was hard to come by in the Zoldyck family. The last time he could remember feeling this way was when each of his siblings were born and he was allowed to hold them for the first time. He remembered how content he had been, even if it was only for a single moment. He remembered the feeling of warmth spreading through his bones as he gazed down upon the rounded faces of his newborn siblings, who would eventually grow to hate him for how cold he was.
Meanwhile, Hisoka was studying every square inch of the lovely, raven-haired assassin beside him. He had also found himself extremely captivated by Illumi, though he had no idea why. They were equal in power, and Hisoka usually only took interest in those who were stronger than him. He also preferred those who could challenge him in some way, and he was pretty sure he could overpower and subdue Illumi if it ever came down to it.
It makes no sense, Hisoka thought to himself, as his glittering amber eyes scanned over the soft-looking, unblemished skin that made up Illumi's face. He should be nothing more to me than a partner in crime, or, at the very least, an eventual one-night-stand. But something tells me he's become more than that, and I'm not sure if I like that.
Illumi noticed the way Hisoka was staring at him and rolled his eyes. "Don't you have anything better to do than stare at me all the time?" he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation.
"No, not really." Hisoka replied, without skipping a beat. "You're cute. I can't find a single reason to not stare at you."
"I am not cute." Illumi flipped his hair over his right shoulder with an indignant scoff and pushed himself to his feet. "You're delusional as ever. I think I'm gonna explore for a little while. Or maybe I'll go back up to the roof."
"Very well. Have fun." Hisoka purred.
Illumi gave absolutely no explanation for his sudden desire to just up and leave like that. He straightened out his dark red vest – which was studded with needles from the hem all the way up to the collar – before making his way to the front door and disappearing outside without saying anything else.
Hisoka watched him go, licking his lips and grinning from ear to ear as if he were about to do something mischievous.
The magician always seemed to have an answer for everything, but this time, even he had absolutely no idea what was going on here. He had never been interested in anyone the same way he was interested in that assassin. In fact, of all the people he could've taken interest in, the last person he expected it to be was someone with a job as boring and restrained as assassination. Killing people because you were told to was something that did not appeal to Hisoka at all.
And yet... there was something fascinating about Illumi. He was so impassive and almost robotic in the way he spoke, moved and acted, but he also had something of a personality buried beneath the brainwashing his parents had put him through. He was such a quirky little character, doing odd things like sleeping in closets for no other reason than his strong dislike for beds, or giving Hisoka borderline sarcastic comments while they were on their way to meet Ryoko. It was those small, seemingly irrelevant things that revealed bits and pies of who Illumi really was.
Hisoka sighed and leaned back into his seat. He should've just killed Illumi a long time ago, because now he really didn't want to. There was something so utterly fascinating about that damn assassin.
Hisoka had never been one to try and curb his own insatiable desire. He was determined to find what made Illumi Zoldyck so unexplainably special, even if that also meant finding all the things that had broken him.
A/N: Does anyone ever read the authors notes? I'm genuinely curious because I like to read them but I know some people don't. For me, they are important because they might contain important announcements regarding the story or the author themselves, and because they provide an opportunity to kinda get to know the author a little bit. What do you guys think?
A review would be much appreciated! Especially constructive criticism, if you have any. I need that.
-UltimatexAdmin