AN: a zillion years ago, someone asked if I took requests and I dumbly said yes knowing I don't have the time. Anyway, I wrote this for them.
Sweet
Kuroro Lucilfer neither strongly liked nor disliked things, people, places, experiences too much because feelings of pleasure and displeasure were fleeting at best. But as he studied the familiar, pale face on the auction stage a few feet away, there was one thing he enjoyed a little, if only subconsciously.
Karma.
Though Kuroro had mostly succeeded in ridding himself of frivolous emotions such as anger, hate, and the desire for revenge, he felt the slightest tinge of satisfaction at the sight of the half-naked Kurta being sold on the markets of Yorkshin City. It felt like karma even if it wasn't – the blonde had made it his life's mission to obtain the Eyes of his people, Eyes that caused more trouble than they're worth, only to end up on the same auction that sold them.
Maybe that's called irony, not karma. Nevertheless, he leaned back against the hard seat, forcing his expression into an affected look of ennui to conceal his growing amusement. There had been a time, even after losing his Nen and home, that Kuroro genuinely wanted the blonde to join them, take Uvo or Paku's place. But somewhere down the line, those feelings soured. His own resolve the limbs of the Spider were interchangeable wavered with each solitary moment that went by. Those words often passed through his mind, even after losing half your limbs. And each time they did, his disposition grew acidic. It wasn't a lasting sentiment, often vanishing moments after it came. If given the opportunity, he would still offer the blonde the position and accept him without any ill will, because the Chain User was strong and that was all he cared about. But losing half his limbs and replacing them was unappealing, even if Kuroro wouldn't admit that to himself.
"We'll start the bidding at four billion Jenny," the auctioneer said thunderously from the podium.
Kuroro snorted. Only four? The price unsurprisingly rose quickly, jumping to ten, then fifteen, and beyond. Had he not recently sold most of his earthly possessions and donated his wealth, he might've bet something. But he was for all intents and purposes poor, which was the primary reason for his presence at the auction now. That and Machi. She likes to buy things.
Two males were battling rather vociferously over the blonde. The portlier of the two had the look of the sort of individual who'd buy a living creature for pleasure, but the other held a more sinister appearance. It was hard to tell what it was about the man that bothered him, before realizing less than being bothered it was a general feeling of dislike. Kuroro understood those whose lust dictated their actions. But it was those like himself whom often frayed his nerves.
The portly gentlemen soon conceded defeat and the blonde was pulled off the stage, chains jangling, how'd he end up here anyway? But that interest faded. The venture of watching wealthy males and females buy things grew dull entirely. So, Kuroro went outside. The city's air held a strange, metallic scent, much like it always did as he crossed the street.
"Did you get it?" he asked.
"Yeah." Machi came up to his shoulder. "Next time, warn me so I can sell some stuff before doing your dirty work." She dropped the tome into his arms, not waiting to see if he caught it before brushing past him. He smirked and tucked it under his arm before meandering after her.
She slowed down, waiting for him to catch up. "I hate this place."
"Bad memories?"
"Hardly." She rolled her eyes. "Bunch of rich, old pricks."
He flashed his teeth at her as they trotted to the ends of the market. With it being the last day of the auction, things were wrapping up and he was excited to busy himself with other things.
Like revenge?
No, nothing like that. He had a flight to catch and a fight to plan. And whether one would consider what he was about to do to the clown petty was irrelevant. Kuroro wanted to kill Hisoka entirely, ruthlessly, and flawlessly. His reason for doing so hardly mattered.
"Is that the chain guy?" Machi pointed abruptly. He turned his neck to see the Kurta, among other things, being loaded into a black van down the street.
Black van. Really? Some people had no taste for subtly. "Sure is," he replied.
"You sound smug about that." Her left eyebrow went up in amusement as she stared up at him.
"Trying not to be." He frowned. "Uvo would be pissed to see his killer in, well, chains."
Machi crossed her arms. "So am I, frankly." She let out a low tsk, though her narrowed gaze revealed another emotion.
"I'm a little curious myself to be honest," Kuroro admitted. "I couldn't sense any Nen from him."
She gave him an easy smirk. "Must have pulled a you on himself."
"Very funny." He looked down at the tome. "Maybe I'll say hello."
Machi shot him a look, her pretty features wrinkling into a grimace. "Don't waste your time." There was a note of bitterness in her tone. But the foundation of the Spider was the notion it was interchangeable. Anyone could join, thus it could never really end. His orders were final, but even as the leader his death wouldn't matter and it shouldn't matter. All that matters is the continuation of the Spider.
"I didn't say I was going to ask him to join," Kuroro replied.
"No that's exactly what you said." Machi shook her head and threw a needle at the vehicle just as it pulled away from the curb. "Hopefully, they don't notice."
"I hope they do," he replied, allowing himself another tiny smile.
"Come on. There's some other stuff I want to look at." She laced her arms between his free one and pulled him further down the street, toward the main building. Together, they likely resembled a young, wealthy couple. Kuroro had dusted off his only black suit for the occasion, while Machi had scrounged up a form-fitting, lace dress that stopped at her knees. She looked nice, though pointing that out would only annoy her. She never liked compliments.
"You like this?" She gestured towards a rather ornate pair of diamond earrings.
"Sure," he said. They don't seem your type though. "I'll steal them for you later."
"I'll steal them for myself," she replied. "You really like these?"
"Since when did my opinion on what you wear matter?"
"Since you're the only one here," she said. "Also I never said this was for me. Maybe it's for you."
"Not my style."
They walked past more jewelry, all fakes. The real treasure was hidden elsewhere. It was like this every year save when something live was sold, because the live aspect was a strong part of the allure.
"Aren't you on this no-stealing kick, or something?" Kuroro asked.
"Yeah, it's called self-control not no-stealing. I'm trying not to be impulsive about what I take. I need to grow… stronger... mentally." Her lower lip twitched like she wanted to say something else, but she kept walking. Machi brought a few more things, mostly paintings and jewelry to be delivered later. By then the sky was dark and the stars twinkled above winking every so often, though the moon was obscured by thick, bulbous clouds.
"You gonna follow them?" Machi asked, the thread between her fingers. "I'm really not interested in coming along."
He shrugged. "I'll go alone."
"You sure?"
He gave her a look, wondering if she really did want to come but couldn't say it. "I'll meet you all at the airport tomorrow."
"You sure about that?"
He extended the tome towards her. "Yes. Tomorrow morning."
Her expression remained blank as she took the offered tome and walked away, pausing after a few steps. "Don't do anything too stupid."
"I'll make no promises," he replied. Then, he went after Machi's Nen thread.
The van had parked on the outskirts of Yorkshin, at a large villa he assumed belonged to the gentlemen that purchased the Kurta. There were Nen users inside and around, what sort of person lives here? And there was no easy way in. It was surrounded by desert mostly – there was a bit of vegetation that had clearly been placed by some landscape artists, but it would provide little cover once he moved away from the abandoned junk nearby.
What exactly am I doing here?
Trivial, frivolous, something to be chastised in any Spider. In any person. They held no grudges. I hold no grudges. The limbs were interchangeable. When one died, another would replace them. Those were his own rules.
Still, he studied the mansion carefully as the night aged. The villa hung precariously on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Gordeau desert – the part of the desert littered with scrap metal, abandoned cars, and faulty appliances and it was an odd place to build a mansion. Kuroro assumed, perhaps incorrectly, that the building was a new addition and likely was straightforward in its design, holding no strange dungeons, underground caverns, cemeteries, or warehouses common to the older structures in Yorkshin. The lack of obvious security out front likely meant some Nen user provided some, or maybe the owner is a Nen user? But he wasn't interested in fighting, that was a waste of energy. He'd rather avoid killing too for the same reason. There was an element of surprise in his possession that would allow him to enact revenge without drawing the attention of the Chain User's captors. After all, there was no reason for anyone to come looking for the Kurta, least of all the leader of the Spider. And so, Kuroro waited, flipping through his book for something that might make this simpler. Teleportation seemed too simple, not to mention any security system worth anything would pick up his Nen. And he wanted this to be smooth, executed flawlessly just like my fight. The idea of the rich man waking to see his possession no more brought a smile to his face.
In the end, Kuroro flipped his book shut. Using Nen could draw unnecessary attention. So he moved towards the house gracelessly. The six cameras he found cracked easily with the toss of a pen.
No one came after him, so he assumed everyone was in a state of lethargy.
As he approached the front gates, they're open? Strange. He strolled up the stone driveway, impressed at the lack of security though that could be a ruse, designed to throw me off guard. The thought of an ambush brought a tiny smile to his face, but that seemed silly. If anyone had noticed him back at the auction, Kuroro or Machi would've noticed them too. He tossed another pen at the camera by the building's front door, which was blessedly locked. He picked the lock with a pin he'd swiped out of Machi's hair while she was looking at jewelry. The door opened noiselessly into an ornate, barren foyer. But he could sense the presence of others, faintly. Voices echoed through the halls and there was a smell, pungent and bitter, like whisky.
Kuroro smirked. They were partying, a venture he wholly supported. He slipped inside, shutting the door. The foyer was wide and marbled. There was a staircase to his left, to his right a wooden door, and just ahead a hallway leading to what looked like the grounds.
He went into the empty living room. Three French doors overlooked a courtyard, all of which he opened. He used his Nen to start a fire in the fireplace, before making his way to the den, and then going towards the kitchen. The voices were somewhere downstairs and he presumed there was some sort of indoor gym or theatre down there, maybe even a bowling alley. Though I suppose that's being too gracious. There was probably something much seedier down there. The wealthy were all alike in some ways.
The kitchen was empty save a woman carrying an empty tray who froze when she saw him. Kuroro knocked her out in a flash, catching the tray and lowering her to the ground carefully. He stood up looking across the granite countertops and wondering how long it would take before someone sounded the alarm. No one appeared after several long moments, so he made his way downstairs. The smell of alcohol thickened. It was almost a shame he'd made some kind of pact with himself not to shed any blood tonight, because with this element of surprise, it'd be a slaughter.
While there were some Nen users, none of them presented much of a threat. And he was able to make quick work of them, six in all, in a few seconds rendering them all unconscious. But the Kurta's not down here…There was the remnants of what appeared to be a birthday celebration based on the pink and yellow balloons that spelled out happy birthday, Carlene. A half-deflated golden balloon in the shape of a six lay by his feet.
Well this is dull. Not that he expected much, but none of the men were even armed. And inebriated, they had scarcely reacted. Though if Machi were here, she'd probably say no one expects to be attacked by you, of course they're ill-prepared.
Somewhere a clock ticked loudly. And the fire he'd started crackled faintly. He must be upstairs… He made his way up the ostentatious staircase, slowly, listening for anything out of the ordinary. The Chain-Users buyer must be asleep.
At the top of the stairway, he paused before jerking himself to the side.
A hand crashed onto the stair's rail, splitting the metal in half cleanly and silently.
Kuroro back flipped, landing in the lobby.
"So you came?" It was a dark-skinned woman with green hair, her right hand balled into a fist. She leaned forward over the broken handrail and stared down at him.
Kuroro looked up at her. "Were you expecting me?"
"Not at all." She grinned. "But I saw you at the auction, Spider. Your kind put everyone on high alert."
Well that sucks. I must be getting rusty. Though he supposed several months of solitude had made him lazy. "Was it my hair?"
She snorted. "It's your vibes. You're a scary man, Kuroro Lucilfer, even when you're not trying to be."
He gave a tiny shrug. "Ah. Not much I can do about that."
"So what do you want?" She folded her arms. "You're clearly not here to kill anyone, or I'd already be dead. Along with everyone else in this building."
At that, he couldn't help but grin. "You're very observant."
"It's my job," she replied, batting her eyelashes at him. "I'm security."
He relaxed his shoulders, making his way to the bottom of the stairwell carefully. Though he didn't want to put her at ease entirely, at the moment he didn't see any reason to kill her if it could be avoided. "How much are you getting paid?"
"A lot."
"I'll give you twice as much," he said.
"For what?"
"For staying out of my way. I'm not in the mood to hurt anyone tonight."
"Tempting." She straightened her back and this time the smile reached her eyes. "You wouldn't have to offer me anything. I'm not risking my life for that swine."
"Fair," he replied, resisting the urge to laugh. "What can you tell me about the owner of this place?"
"He's a Nen user, not a good one, but be careful. He'll mute you."
"Meaning what?"
"Guess you'll find out soon." She gave him a look.
"Well, my offer still stands."
"Deal," she replied. "Though I suspect this will be an IOU."
"Is it my vibes?" Kuroro reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He sent Shalnark a text. Technically he was broke, but the others weren't. At least I hope they aren't.
She snorted. "Sure, it's the vibes. Beggar vibes."
"What's your name?"
"Juri." She plucked something out of her hair and flicked it at him. "Send the money here, if you feel so inclined."
He caught the white card between his fingers, which had a number and address scribbled across it. And when he glanced up again, Juri was gone.
Damn. Someone like her would be a good addition to the Spider. She'd split the rail without using any Nen and somehow managed to conceal herself from him entirely. Ah well. He shoved the card in his pocket and went back up the stairs; he figured Juri was bare minimum warning the mansion's owner of his presence before leaving which meant his element of surprise was gone.
The upstairs level was just as grand as the lower one. He paused, wondering what the purpose of so much space was, before searching the upper rooms, one by one. He intentionally saved the master suite for last, but he was pleasantly surprised to find it empty. Am I at the wrong house? It had briefly passed his mind that perhaps Machi's needle had been discovered and put elsewhere to throw him off, but that couldn't be the case.
"Mister?"
Kuroro spun around, his back rigid. But there was only a little girl standing there in a dirty, yellow dress. She couldn't have been much older than five or six. Six? Is it her birthday they were celebrating?
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, because he didn't really like children. They were at best entertaining in small doses, at worst liabilities to living the way one wanted.
The girl's eyes widened. "That lady…she—" The child sucked in a ragged breath and he finally noticed the tears streaking down her ruddy cheeks.
Fantastic. He lowered himself into a crouch and attempted to look somewhat non-threatening. "Where are your parents?"
"My dad is dead!" The girl let out another sob, clutching the bear to her chest. "That lady killed him."
Juri? "With green hair?"
The girl nodded.
Fool me twice… I really should've asked her to join. "Where's your mother?"
"I don't know her," she replied. Then, she took a step forward. "Can you help me?"
Can I? He certainly could though it would throw a wrench into his own plans. "Yes," he said, extending a hand towards her because he needed more time to think. "Can you take me to your father?"
The girl scurried over to him and nodded, before clutching his hand between her cold fingers.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Carlene," she replied.
"I'm Kuroro," he said. And he let her tug him into the hallway. While it did briefly occur to him this was some sort of ruse, he found himself relaxed. His primary concern now, as they rounded a corner and entered another hallway behind a door, was whether to kill the child, or actually help her. Given Kuroro had either finished Juri's work for her, or ruined her plans, he wasn't sure which would be the better option. But he did know what it was like to grow up without a family and there was a part of him that wondered if death might be a small blessing for the child.
In the end, as he peered into the bedroom while Carlene clutched his arm in a death grip, he decided to let her live. It was something Machi would probably do, after all.
The father, the buyer from earlier, was very much dead laying against one of the shelves of the library. Kuroro frowned, this is messy work. And given how smooth Juri had been, he found it surprising she hadn't done a cleaner job though it's likely my presence rushed her. The little girl let out a strangled gasp and, for a moment, Kuroro wished he were capable of some genuine empathy.
"That's my dad!" She said, bursting into sobs again. "Can he be brought back to life?"
Kuroro gave her a look. What makes her think… well… actually he did possess an ability that would give her a reanimated version of her father. But that seemed cruel, even by his standards. So, he crouched down, bringing himself to her level. "I'm going to get you some help, but first I need you to explain what happened."
The child sniffled before reaching up and rubbing her eyes. The story as he pieced it together was that today was her birthday, but she'd gone to bed earlier and woken up to a loud bang. When she came into her father's study, she found him dead.
"Oh there's one more thing," she said. "The green lady said she was looking for someone."
"Who?"
"I think it was the boy in the attic." She sniffled again.
"Can you take me up to him?"
The girl nodded, then took him down the hall towards the stairs to the attic. He knocked her out quickly and set her down at the foot of the stairwell, before ascending slowly to a spacious area. The room was mostly empty save for a bunch of cages, indicating the Kurta hadn't been the man's first purchase.
The Chain User was drugged. Well that's no good. He would take his revenge later, what the Kurta came to his senses. For now, he called the cops before picking him up bridal style and left.
The old warehouse wasn't his first choice but ended up being the only place he could think of. Machi was irate, judging by her back-to-back texts asking him where he was. He would miss the flight, but I'm too invested now. That was usually the case with life though. Once he rationalized whatever he was going to do wouldn't personally benefit himself, or the Spider, it was always after putting in too much effort to jump ship. To leave before getting his revenge would render the time leading up to this moment meaningless. And while the things he disliked were few, wasting time was one one of them.
Besides, I'd miss the flight even if I left this very moment.
So he cracked open his notebook, perusing it carefully. Nothing new had been written in there recently, though now that time was plentiful he didn't feel much like writing. The moon outside was disappearing below the horizon. The sun soon rose; how long have I been awake? Though Kuroro rarely slept longer than an hour or two, because sleep was a waste of time.
The blonde shifted slightly.
Kuroro met a tired gaze. There was confusion, then recognition. The Chain User jerked back, likely fruitlessly reaching for his still locked Nen before freezing. The desire to kill each other was mutual, only now the Chain User seemed woefully aware of the gap in power between them.
Kuroro studied the scarlet eyes carefully. It was a shame, but he didn't remember much about the massacre of the Kurta clan. It was, like most of his life, one of many things he'd done that blurred into his past.
"Are you going to kill me?"
There was no fear there, only a deep, unending rage rolling off the blonde in waves. His hand was clenched into a ball, trembling at it lay by his side. The drugs hadn't fully worn off, or he was certain the Kurta would be on his feet attempting to strangle him.
Kuroro slammed the book shut and stood up, before turning and walking towards the exit.
"Where... are you going?" There was genuine confusion in his voice this time. "Did you save me?"
Kuroro paused and tilted his head to stare at the blonde. There were a number of things he could say. Yes, I did save you, now you owe me your life. Join the Spider, why did you pick Uvo and Paku, but not me, but instead he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the building. Any words shared between them would be meaningless.
The sky turned pink and orange, the air finally warming as the wind kicked up a light mist of sand that wove around him in a spiral. As he walked towards the city, he could practically hear the others berating him for not killing the Chain User then and there. But Kuroro didn't really enjoy vengeance in that way and he figured the blonde would drive himself crazy trying to figure out why Kuroro had saved him. It didn't make sense to spare an enemy that would've killed him had the situation been flipped.
But for the leader of the Spider that senselessness was the sweetest form of revenge