Title: Luminescence
Author: Cherrie (kurapikasama@yahoo.com)
Chapter: 4/5
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers: Hunter X Hunter © Yoshihiro Togashi, Shounen Jump Weekly, Shueisha and Nippon Animation. This fanfic is written for entertainment purposes only.
Summary: The story surrounding Yours Truly, Hisoka.
(Useless) Notes: You know...I think Kuroro's not so bad for Illumi. I mean, I dunno...I was just watching episode 62 a while ago and--*gets hit by a violently thrown telephone post* Gack! He-ey, I was just sharing! *gets hit by a sharply thrown bulldozer* Okay...shutting up! . Onto another note that makes better sense. I keep having this great big wall in front of me every time I write something for Luminescence, I don't know why. Ever noticed that I update this fic after every month!? . But one more chapter and it's over, and I expect to finish this thing around a week from now. I've got the story figured out anyway, unlike before XP Special thanks to Katatsumuli (the words you said to me during our first exchanges are the best compliments anyone ever said to me. I don't know if you still remember them, but thank you so much!), Quince (for your enthusiasm. I don't know, you moved me I guess ^^; It really means a lot) and Clara (for reminding me that I still have an on-going fanfic by not liking the outcome of Yours Truly, Hisoka. Hehe, I didn't like it either. I mean, that's what this fic is for, right? ^0^)

* * * * * * * * * *

The past few days have been spent playing games. Illumi, true to his word, seemed to have completely forgotten about what happened in the ship. He didn't speak of it, nor did he treat Hisoka any differently from how he had before. There were those few moments when he'd stare at him longer than he's supposed to, but other than that, there was nothing. He ignored the magician's attempts in avoiding him, even if it was clear that the man was upset about being dismissed the way Illumi had dismissed him.

Still, Hisoka spent his time ignoring Illumi. He pushed away any sign of help from the other, speaking only in short phrases if necessity truly calls for it. But it wasn't completely because of his anger towards the assassin that made him feel that way. In fact, usually the thrill of a chase would entertain him far more than the other party's actual submission. But in a way, Illumi's case was different. He did not give Hisoka the right reactions the other wished to get from him. His indifference with the situation insulted the magician gravely, but why he still thought about him, he wasn't really sure. He didn't know why he insisted on watching him still.

That was why he gave special effort in shifting his attention elsewhere. Gon was a perfect target whenever Hisoka wanted to run around after someone else. The only problem though was that wherever Gon was, Killua was there as well. And with his supposed companion's strange brotherly instincts, wherever Killua was, Illumi wasn't far away. Somehow, it was almost as if they were chasing after the same thing.

He was somehow thankful during that time when he became Gon's target during one of the final tests. Illumi had hidden himself underground - which was a truly added bonus really - for safety purposes, or so he said. The magician had his fun, but it didn't last for long. By the time that certain test was over, Illumi had been the one to come to him once again. He was tempted to throw away his mobile phone really, just so Illumi won't be able to bother him through it.

If he was upset last time, he was near to being furious now. Despite the ice that Illumi conveniently set between them, they kept the facade of being together, perhaps for the sake of the agreement. Neither of them were one to break his given word when he meant to keep it. But still, Hisoka kept his distance. After all, that was what Illumi wanted for him to do, wasn't it? Usually, this would bother him, doing what was wanted of him. But right now, he really didn't care. All he wanted was to figure out his supposed purpose of actually wanting to be with Illumi still.

Which was probably why his head was throbbing right now. True, he's been having a severe headache for trying to think, but this time, he had a more physical reason for having a painful head. The cold glass of the airship's windows were hard, and perfect for knocking some sense into one's head. It was usually a useful way to clear your head, but for some reason, it wasn't working.

Maybe I should just kill him, he thought to himself after much thinking. It bothered him that this wasn't the first thought to come to him. After all, one of his personal principles was to kill whoever came in his way, or whoever felt dangerous. But why did that certain thought seem so difficult to accept? He knew it wasn't because he was afraid of Illumi. It was something else.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Resigned, he settled on moving away from the glass and nestling the tender skin on his temple. The alcohol aboard the airship was wonderful, and it's doing a pretty good job of easing away the random thoughts in his head.

"I didn't know you drink heavy liquor," came a voice from behind him.

Startled somewhat - it was annoying the way he kept losing his guard these days - he turned his head around and looked over his shoulder. With a few more steps, Illumi's tall figure loomed over the side of the table, staring at the golden liquid rippling in Hisoka's glass. He followed that gaze and gave his drink a thoughtful glance before shrugging. "I do when I'm really upset about something," he said, not even minding whether or not Illumi caught his annoyance.

The assassin was silent as he slid into the seat across from Hisoka, eyeing the magician and his drink alternately. With a final hard look, Illumi's eyes shifted from him to the glass window, looking out at the white, misty clouds outside. He didn't look at Hisoka again after that.

Cold suspicion rose inside him. He pushed himself to stop looking at the pale assassin and just looked down at his glass, gold sparkling inside clear crystal. Thoughtfully, as if in a trance, he lifted the brim to his lips, fully intending to gulp down a mouthful. Slowly, a dull sweetness, one he could've missed had he been less attentive, flowed through his tongue, making him stop his initial intentions of drinking the glass's contents. He gave the glass a long calculating look before it finally hit him.

Poison.

The small glass was settled down, doing soft 'clink' as it bump against the many other empty ones on the table. His eyes widened somewhat before coming back to its usual shape. He didn't say anything, and just stared out the glass window, contemplating on his thoughts. If he's right about the poison, he hadn't seen Illumi put anything. But then who else could it have been? After all, he wasn't really paying much attention, so he must've missed it.

So, what did it mean? Illumi's trying to get rid of him now? He suddenly realized that he was far too tired to act any more surprised. It didn't seem strange anyway. After all, isn't that the same thought he's been playing with in his mind himself? Kill or be killed. The same rule applied for Illumi. Especially with Illumi.

But he felt cold still, an unpleasant feeling of betrayal. He couldn't help but ask himself why. This was where it all led to. It wasn't unexpected, but still...

There were so many thoughts that came to him then. How potent was the poison? Can it really kill him? Or was it meant for him to find out? Illumi was still quiet, avoiding his gaze until now. Did he know?

Across the table, missing the magician's glazed eyes, the assassin's lips pursed into a tight line. A fist clenched underneath the table, opening and closing in tension as the stillness between them went on.

Still lost in his own thoughts, Hisoka decided that there was only one way to find out. He trusted his own health, for this won't be the first time he'd be taking in poison after all. This may be a stupid decision, and perhaps the alcohol had somehow got to him, but in one fluid motion, he took the filled glass in his hand, held it up to his lips and started to tilt it up.

A loud crash broke through the small room as the glass was quickly slapped away from the magician's hands and smashed against the wooden divider that separated their table from the others. The room was thankfully empty. The other applicants must be somewhere else, studying due to that rumor that somehow spread its way inside the ship.

Tired as he was, Hisoka couldn't help but gape at his stinging, now empty hand. Somewhat confused as to what exactly happened, he looked up at the assassin across from him. Strangely, Illumi was also eyeing his own hand, the very same one that just back-handed Hisoka's own to make him drop the glass. His usual blank face was now creased with an obvious confusion, and his voice shook as he spoke.

"What...the hell just happened?" he asked, shifting his gaze shakily from his hand to the magician's eyes.

Hisoka was silent. He himself was asking the same question, and he assumed that Illumi would be the one who held the answer. But he eventually tried to mask his own shock as he took the scene in front of him in. He realized that this was the first that he'd see Illumi put down his guard. Confusion and a slight annoyance marred the assassin's face as his eyes now rested on the broken shards of glass that now lay on the floor. As if stabbed by something that couldn't be seen, Illumi's eyes drifted closed, and his head fell on a dead fall on his folded arms upon the table.

Hisoka watched the other with an ill sort of interest mixed with his own confusion, and he kept still up until Illumi seemed to have fainted. He recognized the other's consciousness though through his breathing. They were fast, but shallow, and almost labored. Intending to shake the other from whatever it was that was wrong with him, Hisoka reached out to touch those still arms when Illumi moved. A hand shot up and slapped the magician's hand a second time, though now, the action seemed to be much weaker than the last.

But he did it anyway. It was almost as if Illumi repulsed his touch.

"That thing was meant to kill me, wasn't it?" asked Hisoka, his eyes now on the floor where the broken glass lay.

It took a while before Illumi responded, and when he did so, his voice was low and muffled. "I'm just tired," he said, one hand clenching and unclenching, almost clawing at the hard, wooden table. He didn't even seem to hear Hisoka's question. "But I still can't do it."

* * * * *

By the time Hisoka got the strength to stand up, he quickly left the room, fighting the urge to turn around and look back at the assassin. Actually, 'left' was a bit weak for it. He more like bolted out of the room. And there he had been thinking that Illumi was the biggest blob of ice to ever walk this Earth. He was so close to being free from him, had he spent a few more time drinking and thinking of a way to get himself rid of him.

But no. Like always, Illumi went on his way to disarm him again. Everything would have been easier if he had thought that Illumi hated him and his guts. Things would've been easier had Illumi just punched him on the face, or something near to that. So by then, the (imaginary) hatred between them wouldn't be so one-sided, and he would hate Illumi eventually and - fuck their truce - they'd end up battling it to the very end.

Get rid of him. That was what his instincts told him to do. If you're confused over something, end your misery. But after Illumi's failed assassination attempt, he doubted he could do the same fit and succeed. Illumi was the expert as far as assassinations are concerned. And between them both, he seemed colder and calmer. But he failed.

Right now, Hisoka just felt drained. So his little infatuation wasn't as one-sided as he thought after all. But what the hell was the problem? Illumi can't be that prudish, can he? So their little alliance had small issues concerning lust. Hasn't the guy ever heard of friends with benefits?

Maybe it had something to do with his family. But he really couldn't see the point. This has nothing to do with his occupation whatsoever. Really, he wasn't even asking much. All this trouble for just one moment. One night probably and he might be sated. Just until the end of the exam and they'd then go on their own merry way.

Right?

He stared out into the distance, past the clouds and the blue of the sky. One night to satiate all his longings. Would it really be enough? How about two? Three? He tires easily anyway, so will those suffice?

He looked down at his right hand, at his reddened knuckles where Illumi just back-handed him. Where Illumi just stopped him from stupidly killing himself. Come to think of it, the poison must've been potent for him, being that it was from Illumi's hands. He heard that ordinary poison doesn't work on your typical Zoldick, so they must be studying and coming up with various alterations to train them harder. Illumi once mentioned that one of his brothers spend his entire time inside their mansion, just thinking of new ways to train (torture, to be precise) the family.

Whatever it was that stopped Illumi from what he initially planned to do, Hisoka had a feeling that it was the same thing that made him rethink his own thoughts of killing the other. Something has gone terribly wrong between them, and it's almost funny because it shouldn't have been that way. They were two of the most unlikely people that prowl this planet to suffer from confusion regarding themselves and their place for others. There never had been an 'other' in Hisoka's world, and he knew that the same thing applied for Illumi.

So...one night. Or until the exam was over. If Illumi would give himself to him, he'd let him off, right?

Right.

So, again. What the hell was wrong?

Frustrated with himself, Hisoka banged his head straight for the clear glass window overlooking the sky outside. He's been doing that a lot lately. Whether or not the action actually helped in clearing his thoughts, he wasn't exactly sure. He just felt like doing it to shake his head a bit.

Hunger had become desperation, and in a way, his desperation became an obsession. An obsession so strong he doubted he'd get over it. Even if he'd finally get his hands on that assassin, it's not going to help. He'll just take him for himself and he'll hold on to him till he die trying. Illumi was different, and Hisoka knew he can put up with him. He realized that he knew this all along, and somehow his subconscious planted it in his mind that if ever he actually has a lifetime partner, it has to be Illumi. He wondered if Illumi thought of this too? Was that the reason why he was so bothered?

No. He was overreacting. His stupid brain was overreacting. This was part of the reason why just wished he didn't have to use it so often. His brain and alcohol never went well together.

He had to come up with a good explanation for what was wrong with him, so he can get rid of the other as soon as possible. Hisoka's life was meant to be led alone, where he was in complete control. And no other person must interfere. He does not have a lifelong partner.

He banged his head on the hard glass again to get this fact inside his system.

* * * * *

Shit.

There's no other word for it. If somebody asked him to summarize his current life as of now in one single word, that's pretty much it: Shit.

The Hunter Exam went easier than he expected, and came out a bit of a disappointment when he actually passed it. It's unfair. He just lost his playground and just concluded that his life was comparable to a bowl of rotten apples. And how come Illumi got what he wanted? He had the license and he got his brother home. Everything just seems to go his way and against Hisoka's.

Well, one thing actually came out good. He had Gon's attention. He found that out when he caught sight of the boy's heated stare at him during the final exam. He clutched Hisoka's number - that one from the hunting test - tightly before pocketing it before anybody sees. If anybody would bother to remember, Gon was what Hisoka placed between himself and Illumi. Illumi had his Killua, then Hisoka has Gon. It was his way of showing that he wasn't delusional when he doesn't have to be. Gon was a good fixation, and less complicated. If only he could convince himself that it would be so much better to forget about Illumi and just go for what he's really known for.

But oh no. Life's a bitch because Hisoka just found out last night - when he found out that he's somehow suffering from light insomnia (and to think life couldn't get any worse) - that he was human. A bit twisted, but human. There was something about Illumi that he just couldn't let go. That was why he agreed to meet him here, in this cozy little place, right after the exam. They managed to get together after all the applicants - or should he say, Hunters - left to whatever direction their little booties led them to. He and Illumi should be admired actually, and should be given more credit besides their feared reputation in the Hunter Exam. They can still face each other civilly after all that has happened. Any normal person would bolt for the nearest bus station if they were in their place.

Then again, maybe credit should just be given to Illumi. Because here he was, rapping the tip of a pen on the paper laid out in front of him. Frustration visibly etched his face. A mountain-stack of crumpled papers sat beside him. Why he was having a hard time with it, he didn't know. Why he even had to do this, he didn't know either. Why - when he read what he wrote - he sounded like some pathetic, lovesick puppy pushing a forbidden love off his back, he seriously didn't know.

That certain paper went to the stack as well.

There's something appealing about head banging. Either that, or it had just grown out of habit. It doesn't matter really, because Hisoka did it anyway before asking the waiter for yet another piece of paper. That was...what, the sixth time he asked him that? Oh well. He was a paying customer anyway. He'll just leave the guy a big tip when he's done.

And so started the whole agonizing act of writing again. His hand ached from all the scribbling, but something has possessed him to do this and much as he'd rather jump off a cliff than admit that he felt partially guilty - guilty! Guilty!? He was Hisoka for cryin' out loud! Who just died and confirmed the apocalypse!? - for what he was planning to do, he kept it up anyway. A few minutes later, it was over, and though he still sounded like a complete sap in that certain letter, it was better than the other crap he's come up with before.

But that, of course, doesn't justify the fact that he just wrote what looked like a crossbreed between a love letter, a plea, and a death will. This would be so much easier if he'd just zip and leave the guy alone and with so, they can forget they even met. But he supposed that he didn't want to be forgotten just like that. He wanted to leave a mark for a reason only the devil knows what.

He stared at the letter one final time, waiting for the ground to open up and sputter hellfire to burn the paper in his hands to uphold what was left of his dignity. But nothing happened, and sad to say, the place was as cool and comfortable as an old woman's cottage in the middle of a meadow. Hah. Listen to him. So he's now thinking about that? What next, consider catching butterflies?

With a single flick of a hand, the waiter he's been bugging all afternoon was beside him again, doing a mighty good job smiling. He could see that the poor kid was tempted to ask a sarcastic question, something around, "Another paper, sir?" Though he was tempted to ask for another one just to piss him off, he was on a time limit here. Any minute and Illumi would arrive.

"A pale young man with long black hair will arrive soon," he told the boy as he began to stand up. He folded the letter twice, sealed it with his nen to get rid of prying eyes - he eyed the young boy pointedly at this - and handed it to him. "Please give this to him."

"Any messages, sir?" the boy asked.

"No, no messages," said Hisoka. He fished out a couple of bills from his pocket, kind of small for him but large enough for a commoner, and handed it to the boy, not missing the look of pure glee on the young man's face. It's not that he's being kind. He just wanted to make sure that the job was done.

He made to leave, but immediately stopped in his tracks when he just remembered something else. He turned around, holding yet another item to the young waiter. "And before I forget," he said, handing him a black bangle, the same one from the deserted island. He didn't exactly know why he even bothered, but he suspected he's growing insane anyway. "It's his. He'll be looking for it. Give it to him as well."

And with that, he left. He called in a cab to get him to the airport. But before he stepped in, he took a final glance around, wondering if he could take one last glimpse of a certain assassin. With his luck, he knew he wouldn't see anything even if he begged on his knees for heaven to at least give him that much. So with a resigned sigh, he went inside the cab, threw away his mobile phone on the ditch, and finally closed the door behind him.

The cab sped away. Lying upright on the ground, the discarded cellphone began to ring.