This...sucks! *bashes head on a nearby wall* I can't update my chaptered fanfics at the moment because FF.net has my account locked. So here I am, barraging you all with terrible one-shots, my source of comfort every time something happens to my long series fanfics (Have you people noticed that? ^^;)
I'm experimenting on the concept that "Hisoka isn't playful whenever he's with Illumi". I've been watching too much of the episodes with Illumi here to not notice ^^; Anyway, just a short, simple one-shot. Hisoka+Illumi shounen ai (for once), nothing special. But I do hope you'd like it. Comments will be greatly appreciated.
Hunter X Hunter is a manga made by Mr. Yoshihiro Togashi, and the rights for the anime go to the proper companies. This fanfic is made while listening to Kurapika's "Inori" and Killua's "Masho no Tenshi". I bow down to Yuki Kaida and Kanako Mitsuhashi for their heart-warming voices.
CURSE
White, ashen fingers gripped the small cellphone to his ear, rather bit harshly if he were asked. His other hand rested behind his head as a pillow, and the cold grass beneath his back lay soft and gentle, making him think that he was lying on the clouds themselves instead of the ground. He supposed that he had sought the comfort of lying there to ease the confusion that was starting to build up within him.
The gentle hush of the voice from the other line was maddening. "Nothing actually. I just wanted to say 'hi'," it said, a leveled tone that did more than just give him comfort. He felt at ease for some reason, and he hated to admit that perhaps it was that voice that made his strange mood kick in.
"I see," was his prompt reply. Cold, dark eyes stared up at the bright blue sky. The intensity from which the sun's light reflected itself on the vast space and the cotton white clouds was powerful, and he had to shut his eyes closed to give it a moment's rest, before blinding himself on that peaceful brightness all over again. It was a ritual he had been going through for almost half an hour now. He wondered why.
"I told you to call me," said the other voice again.
The assassin was still for a moment, before he answered, "I can't find a reason to."
He didn't understand why he didn't just snap at the other person all in all. It would have been easier if he would just hang up. After all, that seemed to be the easiest way to get rid of him. But for some reason, he didn't have the heart to press that single button that would end the accursed phone call. And...it's not like he really wanted to hang up anyway.
"You don't have to have a reason. Like what I'm doing now, just call for the sake of it," the other said, his voice adamant, if not all in all commanding.
He wanted to ask him why. He wanted to ask why the other even bothered. What was he to him that made him call over and over again despite his consistent promises that were never kept? He wasn't sure if the other was just acting dumb, or the whole cat and mouse chase was amusing him just the same.
Aside from those questions, he also wanted to tell him to stop calling. Frankly, he was disturbing him. The word wasn't exactly "bothering", because sad to say, he wasn't bothered at all. But that was the whole point. Having something to amuse him wasn't exactly his idea of a perfect gift. And also...it was impossible to ignore his growing fondness for the other man. That wasn't good news.
"Illumi?"
"What?" he asked, just in time as well lest his musings would be noticed.
"I have to go. Call me some time, all right?"
He wondered if he could tell him his thoughts out loud. But after a few seconds' pause, he sighed. His voice came out rather hesitant. "All right," he said. And upon saying that, he heard the other line go down in an insistent beeping, indicating that the other had hung up.
* * * * *
The old, cracked doors ahead of him opened automatically when he neared it. He could see the empty room of the tower's last floor in front of him, and he was somehow relieved that it looked like no one has gone down before him. The needles that were fixed on his face and the back of his head were starting to tingle, and it was becoming painful. He needed to relieve himself somehow.
But only when he entered did he realize that he was somehow mistaken. There was one who came ahead of him. He was a strange man clad in what seemed to be a jester's outfit, and he was sitting in the middle of the room while stacking a pyramid of playing cards, one steady card after another. For a moment, he merely watched him.
He looked around for a while, and was relieved to see that there wasn't any more. There were only two of them there. And at this, he took his seat on one side of the room, deciding whether or not he should speak with the other so he could take the confounded needles away.
But it wasn't he who first spoke. "Hey," the strange magician said, waving a hand at him. "Would you like to play a game with me? We still have quite a lot of hours of waiting, after all," he said, indicating at the now neatly stacked cards in his hand.
The first thought that crossed him was whether or not this certain magician was afraid of him. It was strange. As far as he was concerned, that was what most contestants in the Hunter Exam felt for him, and that was what he wanted. But this man was different. A fixed smirk rested on his lips, and his eyes bore no sign of fear whatsoever. He merely waited for him to answer, the deck of cards waving at him in the palm of the magician's hand.
He stood up to approach the other, and he took a seat across from him. The strangely calm magician had started to shuffle the cards expertly in his nimble fingers, perhaps too fast for any normal person to see. He sat there watching in amusement, before being startled by the needles that held his jaw. They started to rattle again. Of all the parts of his head, that was the part most difficult to maintain.
The magician stopped shuffling to look at him for a moment. "Do they always do that?" he asked, a tad bit rudely. When the other didn't respond, he shrugged and started to distribute the cards. "Personally, I think you should take the mask off for now. It wouldn't be a couple of hours more before the next applicant comes in anyway."
He was slightly taken a bit off back by the remark. Maybe there was more to this man than he had thought. He looked around, and caught sight of the supposedly hidden camera that watched over the applicants. The judges of the exam were no problem to him, they knew who he was. His secret was only for the other contenders.
He looked at the other man. "May I ask you for a favor?" he asked, his eyes still cast down on the skillfully moved cards. He saw the other nod from the corner of his eyes, and he continued. "Keep this a secret."
The magician finished handing the cards in and sat back. He smiled. "I will," he said.
He sat there looking at the other man's eyes for a second, deciding whether or not he will keep his word. But the insistent throbbing behind his head was getting too disturbing, and he had no choice. Slowly and carefully, he reached up to take a hold of one needle head and pulled it out. The familiar ache that went with the deformation of his face started, and it went on and on until he had the last needle off.
He was looking down on the ground when he pulled the last off, his long, lush hair coming to fall off the side of his shoulders. That was when he felt the magician's eyes focused on him.
"My name is Hisoka," the man said, a grin spread on his confident lips.
Their eyes met. "Illumi," he said in turn. No more words were spoken between them, and they merely picked up the stack of cards on their sides to start the game.
* * * * *
No blood flowed from the now distorted bodies of the lifeless businessmen, and they lay silently on the cold floors of their own little meeting room. He didn't bother taking the needles away, it wasn't like he was going to run away from the police. The people whom he killed were criminals themselves. Even if they weren't, officials wouldn't bother chasing after him. Once they find out that the culprit of this murder was a Zoldick, they'll leave the case as it is and just settle on calling it a "tragedy".
Illumi's steps were slow and graceful as he exited the building. The way to his employer's office was quickly reached, and the transaction from which his payment was to be given was over in a moment's glance. He left just when the now happy old man turned his back, not even giving him room for a "thank you". Not that he expected it anyway.
He folded the check and slipped it inside his garment. Momentarily, a flash of memory came past him. Cold, almost cruel eyes, a well-built body and a self-satisfied grin. He had to stop in mid step just to settle his thoughts from the intensity from which these things ran through his head.
The bright lights of the city that night were as flashy as they can get. The view from the deserted overpass from which he stood was vast enough, and it served as a comfort against the maddening surge of recollection that overtook him.
The thought of the magician was driving him insane. Every time he stopped and took his guard down, he would think about him. Even as he held the trembling bodies of his victims beneath his hands, he would see him, smirking up at him with that air of confidence that could only be his. He sees him in the eyes of the dead. He sees him in anything living. He sees him everywhere he looked.
His sudden obsession was ruining him. It was a curse. And he didn't know how to get rid of it.
That is...if he even wanted to get rid of it.
He watched as a bright red vehicle swept past below the overpass in an amazing speed. He watched a couple making out in a dark, secluded corner of an alley. He watched a child crying on one side, screaming for her mother to come for her. He watched as a drunkard was thrown out of a bar, only to throw up on the ditch just a few feet away.
But all of these were paid no more than a watchful eye, for the assassin's thoughts were still on the same thing. Heaving a defeated sigh, he reached down and dug his pockets in search of his mobile phone. It was the first time he dialed those numbers after such a long time, and yet he surprised himself when he realized that he still had them etched in his mind. Everything about him had become his obsession.
"Yes?" came the voice from the other line after three rings.
He hesitated at first, but decided against it. "Hisoka," he mumbled, not knowing exactly what he had intended to say.
"Illumi," chimed the other, his voice uncharacteristically gentle still. He often wondered why the magician was like that towards him. He saw him with other people, he was somehow different with them compared to how he was with him. Of course, who was he to complain? Hisoka spoke again. "You finally called. Do you need anything?"
He was his comfort. His obsession.
"No, it's nothing. I just wanted to say 'hi'."
He was his curse.
THE END