I'm sorry this has been such a late post..gosh.I'm so tired. Couldn't
concentrate on work today *sigh* gotta do it tomorrow then.
I personally had a lot of fun doing this chapter. I think there'll be more to come as well ( So keep reading, and I'll pump out Chapter 5 VERY soon - promise. And of course, please review!
Chapter 4
Showing the New Kid around - Part I *This* is the new kid? Oh gees!
Kuroro von Drosgen's parents had once been the most famous actors of their era, dominating the big screens around the world as the perfect, most glamorous couple. She, the raven haired beauty with flawless alabaster skin and sensuous rose red lips and he, the finest specimen ever known to man with a body that would make Adonis jealous. Whether it be steamy love scenes on the golden sands of the beach or the heart breaking separation on a desolate, gray snowy day at a Russian train platform during the war, they captured the adulation and hearts of their viewers and critiques. When their first child, Kuroro, was born, everyone embraced high aspirations in the entertainment industry for him too. With a crop of thick, gleaming black hair and wide, large ebony eyes, he had already featured in many movies from the tender age of five, always as the bright, intelligent and sparkling child protégé that his parents had put him up to. He even participated in several Broadway productions, his most impressive work being the Jolly Roger in Oliver Twist - an animated and charmingly deceitful boy making his living as a pick pocket in the bleak times of the English Industrial Revolution.
But in his own private room, bedroom door firmly bolted, he was a quiet boy, a lonely lass who brooded and detested every moment of this glamorous life. All the bright stages, the spotlights, the cooing crowds, the flashy clothes, the sparkling jewelry - they bought no comfort, no warmth. In fact, he had always been a quietly intelligent boy who would rather remain silent and listen and observe the many conversations around him rather than be the center of attention.
But the society his parents had introduced him into by the time he could comprehend life was an artificially repulsive one, dominated by fake smiles, obligatory formalities and ridiculous conventions. He had to meet the right people, say the correct things and confine himself to certain behaviours in public. It was a rigid and uninteresting life, one that he certainly didn't want when he had enough brains to decide for himself. So why was he still in the acting industry? Why was he still listening to the cohorts of his parents?
The answer was simple - they ruthlessly exploited his weak spot, heckled it without mercy. As the eldest child, Kuroro had always had a sense of family and duty, and didn't his cunning parents exploit that. Whenever he had a contrary idea or thought to them, they pulled out the ever used and ever still usable guilt trip which subdued their eldest child and brought him to their heels. Over the past twenty six years of his life, they had chosen the correct films and scripts for him to mould him into the same man that his father had been in his prime.
THAT was until Kuroro met Aoishi and Legato prowling the city streets at night, two men who still hadn't shed their adolescent recklessness and did what they want, ate when they felt like it. It was when Kuroro was doing research on what it was really like to be in a rave nightclub and how people acted for his latest, supposedly image breaking movie when his mere presence alone almost stopped the crowd.
"What's a straight jacket like you doing in here?" Legato said. He was obviously drunk and his mind was so far out of this universe but he had no intention of pulling it back. He violently shook a can of beer in one hand, then with a mischievous grin aimed and released the contents at his clubbing partner - the ever still immature Aoishi. The Meijin Dynasty actor nimbly dodged and disappeared into the press of bodies - half of them naked from the top. The constant thumping of the bass and loud music almost drowned out Legato's words and he strained hard to concentrate on the conversation.
"Research." He responded quietly. Legato's eyes narrowed and he lost complete trace of his friend, so with a shrug, he gave up and turned his attention to Mr. Perfect.
"You mean fun to you has to be researched? Man, you gotta get out a bit more."
"As a matter of fact, I do." Kuroro suddenly felt indignant. He resisted the urge to glare at the young upstart.
"Hey, no offence! But seriously, I don't call attending those prom parties and balls of yours very entertaining. Half the women there are like dead fish in bed and what kind of music do they listen to again? That's right! Classical music! Come on man! I can make farting noises that sound better!"
Kuroro chose to remain silent at that comment. The loud racket of shouts and modern pop music continued to ravage his ears. It was becoming unbearable to tolerate.
Legato regarded Kuroro's solemn stance and he giggled. "Oops, must have said what everyone's been saying."
"Everyone?" one eyebrow raised in suspicion.
Legato gave a mock sigh and shook his head. He laid a comforting arm around Kuroro's shoulder, but the latter wanted to shrink away from the heavy, whiff of alcohol. "I guess I should spare you and rescue you from the dark? Is that the right phrase? Whatever. Anyway," he breathed out again and Kuroro decided to stop breathing for the duration of the conversation "what everyone's been anticipating is your final break away from your dominating parents."
"There's nothing wrong with fulfilling your filial duty. Perhaps if you listened to your parents more, you wouldn't be messing up your mind with whatever crap you're taking." He remembered himself responding coldly and that it easily cut through the unceasing din and reached Legato's ears with absolute ease.
But gold eyed man ignored him and swayed a bit, leaning on him for balance. "Lets face it Mr. Square, nobody likes you because you go around with that stuck up, snobbish attitude of yours. If you are really looking for a challenge, I suggest you find this man and get yourself a part in his business."
And Legato Bluesummers took off with a lurch and stumbled into the crowd. He left a crinkled, dirty and smelly piece of paper in his hand, but on it was clearly written "Silva Zoldick - Hunter Works, accepting auditions."
So the next day, bright and early, he went to the Hunter Works studio, recently built and opened, and acquired a copy of the script. He sat in Reception's thickly cushioned chairs for the next four hours, his large dark eyes hungrily devouring each word of the wondrous story and he felt a spiteful smile pulling at his lips. Of all the parts still vacant, he had his eyes on one in particular - to play the leader of the mass murdering gang of thieves - the Genei Ryodan! Farewell my good-boy image, the honourable hero or the honest cop, welcome, the leader of the most notorious syndicate of criminals!
The fact that he won the position and successfully carried out his shoots without interference or interruption was always a mood lifting thought. His parents had no idea, and they would probably faint when the series was finally broadcasted around the nation - and even around the world, given the Director's mighty ambitions. He even felt well enough to return home. How long had it been? Seven months since he moved out and acquired his own single bedroom flat in Suburbia near the city and finally felt truly marvelous at the final breaking of his restraints. Megumi and Darien were at home to look after his parents, and he WAS twenty six - time to finally become independent. His departure from home made the small news, as did his participation in the production of Hunter x Hunter, but he didn't mind. The articles expressed curiosity rather than criticism at his behaviour, and he prided in the fact that he was the first to bring the small bit of gossip and publicity to Hunter x Hunter.
And his thoughts about Hunter x Hunter so far? He loved every minute of it - the different types of people he met, the unique scenes and settings, the expressly forbidden use of stunt doubles in fight scenes, and how everyone became another family to him. The numerous bloopers suffered on the shooting gave everyone a fun, relaxed time, especially when the giggles were so contagious that you'd of thought that laughing gas was being leaked into the room. And although gym nights were humiliating and painful, it bought out everyone's genuine side and they all went off happily to dinner and wherever the party took them afterwards. Life was good.
He finally arrived at the white picket fence outside his 'old' home, and his perfect black Labrador stuck his wet nose on his outstretched hand and gave his face a thorough welcome home lather. He looked at his watch and noted the time - it was still early, only eleven thirty. After dinner, they settled for a few beers and further gossip and jokes to cheer up Hisoka. Others gave contributions as to what he could do with Illumi in the next two weeks - a lot of these suggest however, unfortunately revolved around the Barney circus currently taking up the local park with its enormous purple tent.
He fumbled for his keys and found the correct one. Inserting it into the lock, giving it a sharp twist and one swift push, and he was in the neat and prim house. It made him sick.
"Darien? Is that you? I told you to stay in your room for a few days!" his father's voice floated down the dim entrance hall. He guess he shouldn't smile at his little brother's unfortunate predicament, but wasn't that exactly the reason why Paku and the others had been able to persuade him to go home and confront? He cleared his throat feeling an unfamiliar, unknown confidence he'd never felt before swell up in his heart. And it made him feel good.
"No dad, it's me, Kuro."
He remembered that his dad had a glass of red wine each night in the kitchen around this hour, and so knew exactly where to find him.
The kitchen was brightly lit, revealing your conventional, neat and dainty cooking area, complete with a small round table and matching chairs in one corner where his father sat. His back was still as straight as an arrow, and even though he had a few grew hairs on the side of his head, he carried them with dignity. However, he noticed the few extra wrinkles recently developed at the corners of his eyes. That must have been due to the worry caused by Darien's little neked run down town.
"You know it's your fault Kuroro. If you'd been home to look after your little brother, he wouldn't have shamed himself the way he did."
He fought off the fending anger and he bit the bitter and hateful words back. He could do better than that. Instead, he gave an easy, lofty smile.
"I don't know how you can even blame me for that dad," he said with ever tender patience "he's adult now, and he wouldn't take it too kindly if I told him who he should be going out with and who he shouldn't be going out with. In fact, I dare say that he might even try to punch me if I interfered with his social life."
Dad grunted. "You're full of excuses these days, ever since you hooked up with those lowly, B grade actors. You could have taken the main role in Westside Story and broadened your acting skills, but instead, you opt to take up a minor role in...who are you working for again?"
"His name's Silva Zoldick. But that's not the reason why I'm here tonight." He was surprised at how calm and relaxed he felt right now even though hi dad treated him like a dog. "I never intended this to be a friendly visit, but since we're still family, I thought I'd help you clarify the few things in your precious life that can actually make you frown and give you wrinkles."
His dad cocked an eyebrow and took the cap off the crystal decanter to pour himself another blood red glass of wine.
Kuroro stepped forward with Hanzo's newly refurbished compendium titled - "The Real TRUTH behind Darien von Drosgen on the Night he was Caught by Police for Streaking" in big, gold embossed letters on the leather cover. At first, the bald ninja harboured many frustrations as to whether he would be able to capitalize all the words in the title. But when it wouldn't fit on the one page, he was forced to cut down and choose one word to highlight, and it was going to be 'streaking' at first, but then Phinx suggested that it would be more catchy if 'truth' was capitalized instead - truth always got people fascinated - especially when they had thought they had already heard it all. In response, a wicked grin surfaced and Hanzo became eternally grateful to Phinx. It was a very limited and exclusive copy, with only fifty printed so far, but ever since someone 'accidentally' slipped a copy to the local paparazzi, other journalists began spreading their informants around the city, to the local pubs, stores, hair salons, cafes and clothes store, hoping to find the source of this earth shattering news. They quietly slipped the rumor that they were willing to pay five thousand a piece for whoever could present them with a copy. It was very easy pocket money indeed, and being a ninja and all, Hanzo could be VERY inconspicuous when he wanted to. Thus in the space of two hours of the circulation of the latest Compendium, another two hundred copies were on order. He took the book and placed it on the kitchen bench. If his dad wanted to read it, he could, if not, he would send him a bill for the book. It was, after all, an exclusive copy.
"Good night father." He said simply, then with the new airs of an independent and *real* human being, he strolled down the hall and back out into the front yard, gently closing the door behind him again. The good thing was, he didn't feel an ounce of guilt. He knew for once that what he was doing was right.
=============
Thursday, 9:00 am
Hisoka had a good night's sleep for once. He went back to his rented apartment at a time he considered to be early, but after the extra exertions he spent at the gym, his muscles began to complain in a small voice and since he vowed to stay away from his usual social groups for the next fortnight, tiredness turned into sleep, and the hours easily rolled past him.
The alarm clock woke up him at the decent time of seven thirty - when the sun wasn't too low in the sky to be called morning, and it wasn't too high up either to be called late morning and make him feel guilty for sleeping in. Carefully tiptoeing around the messes in his room, the dirty, unwashed plates and cutlery scattered on the tattered carpeted floor, half read magazines with torn pages carelessly stacked in one corner, one of the many stacks had tumbled and spilled over.
He stumbled into the bathroom and picked out a relatively clean towel and plunged into a freezing and refreshingly cold shower.
"Brrr." he shivered as he stepped back out and wrapped his towel tightly around his body, looking around for any clean clothes. He approached his closet and instantly rummaged through from left to right. Suits weren't appropriate today, his usual sports T-shirts.....he sniffed twice and almost retched. They needed a desperate wash, and so did half the other clothes also shriveled up like dead corpses on the dirty ground. Where was the wash basket under the mountains of dirt and grime?
At last, he found a pair of pants that were wearable for summer, a pale khaki coloured pants which reached just above his ankles. He supposed that it was fashionable, since it was given free with the last modeling job that he did, and a slightly fitted dark red t-shirt that actually smelt good and didn't have a wrinkle in it.
He admired his gauntly handsome and pale face in the mirror. He breathed onto it and gave the mirror a quick wipe down first before he could properly study his image. Picking up a comb, the brushed his hair back and applied only the merest layer of gel for some style.
"Acceptable Hisoka, acceptable indeed." He muttered and quickly picked up his keys, deftly slipped into a comfortable pair of runners and wondered how he could best enjoy his two week suspension with a kid tagging along. Taking a deep breath, he opened the front door and stepped out into the morning sun. Time to start the day.
==============
"Good morning!" he cheered at the receptionist and without waiting for an answer made straight for the lift. According to the original time table, Killua and Gon would be doing their little lesson with Wing and Zuuchi. That would be in a small room setting on level two. Later, there would be another retake of yesterday's interrupted scene as well. So, best to wait in the dressing room to see what everyone was up to. Silva may have suspended him for two weeks, but suspension did not mean his physical expulsion from the building in the next fortnight.
He looked about him with small interest, noting that Wing had again forgotten his lines. Ahhh...to explain nen was complex indeed.
"Tongue got twisted. Can we do that again?"
Several of the crewmen chuckled and everyone continued with the serious work.
Hisoka silently entered the change rooms without attracting any unnecessary attention to himself and noted that Hanzo was busy scribbling on bits of paper to the point that sweat gleamed on his bald head. Hisoka regarded it with a certain amount of awe as he could almost see his own reflection.
"Hey Hanzo, shouldn't you be practicing your one finger hand stand? We're going to be taking those acts soon."
"Not today Hisoka, I'm making money right now! A truckload in fact!"
"Oh?" the magician quietly glanced over Hanzo's shoulder at what he was doing.
"You know that baby I was distributing two days ago?"
"Uh huh" Hisoka also had a copy of the scrapbook which had gone around the city two days ago.
"Well, I upgraded it by slipping in a few truths and never before seen material just to fall short of it all be defamatory! Guess how much my next shipment's going to make me! Two hundred copies for five thousand each..that works out to One Million! But of course, there are deductions from the publication to be made - see the exquisite gold lettering on the cover, or the fine quality of the leather which it is on. And the newspaper clippings are in full colour with the squares over certain parts of the anatomy removed!" he exclaimed joyously.
"How did you manage to edit the pictures?" Hisoka picked up Hanzo's own Compendium of Truth about Darien's Night of Streaking and felt his eyebrows go up as he turned each page. The material that Hanzo collected was most impressive. It seems that he has literally bought out all the pictures that each and every journo from every publication snapped on the night and arranged it into a nice little photo album, chronologically, and then placed a ten thousand word thesis on Darien Von Drosgen's past and what led to the little escapade on Monday night.
"If I'm not wrong, I'd say that this was the work of....Shalnark! You're in cohorts together aren't you! Aiding and abetting to bring down Mr. Top Hat Wearing, Tuxedo Prancing, Rose Throwing, Mask Wearing little Casanova!"
The ninja beamed his biggest and most triumphant smile at Hisoka.
"And the real beauty is that with my skills of avoidance, disguise and ability to outrun almost anyone in the city, a few exceptions of course," he added the last bit hastily stealing a quick glance to see if Hisoka was offended or not "I'm not going to be caught!"
Hisoka and Hanzo both shared a solemn, knowing look.
"Code Duello." They muttered softly like a prayer on their lips, a saviour of their dignity and self respect, the passionate holy angel of fury to descend from the fiery heavens to strike down those who would so callously tread on the self esteem of others for their own arrogant elation. O, to strike back and to savour the bitter sweet taste of vengeance! How some men would gladly commit their lives to such a worthy and noble endeavour!
Did they fail to mention how long Darien had been on top of that list for? How long they had been waiting for the chance to finally scratch his name off the list as yet another sacrificial lamb for the long standing Code?
Their satisfied sigh was interrupted by the soft footsteps that entered the dressing room. Had it not been the unfamiliar smell perfume in the air, Hanzo and the magician would not have bothered to look. But because they sensed a new and unfamiliar presence, they turned their heads and suffered various different reactions.
Hanzo's eyes went large and he immediately began to fluster. The temperature in the room suddenly rose like hell fire and his skin started tingling and his hands felt wet and clammy. His tongue turned into lead and his throat shut down and refused to allow him to even stutter a 'Good morning'. ~Damnit Hanzo! Why do you always freeze up when you see an attractive woman?~ he berated to himself, the frustrated shouts and curses resounding loudly in his mind.
Hisoka's first reaction was to gravitate towards the newcomer who he had never seen before. She was the most exquisite and lovely creature that he had ever beheld, her flowing black mane, her large coal black eyes, her pale alabaster skin, her small nose and slightly puckered mouth. He drew in a deep breath. She might as well have "Eat me!" tattooed to her forehead. A charming and predatory smile began to surface and without hesitation (unlike a certain rock golem glued to his chair) he introduced himself.
His eyes never left hers for a single moment as he emblazoned her every detail in his mind. The silken blue shirt loosely hanging over a pair of black shorts, both items revealing fragile and slender arms and legs, so fine with its blemishless skin as silky as satin. Or her infinite grace, every gesture a smooth fluid moment that flowed from one action to another seamlessly. It didn't' help that the few buttons undone at the top of her shirt tempted him with her long neck and lavishing collar bone.
Hormones took over common sense and it prompted him to think: To hell with the introductions. Just grab and kiss her!
So Hisoka dutifully (and rather gladly) obeyed his testosterone driven mind and his arms shout out like arrows to capture his trophy and taste those strawberry pink lips which were just begging to be plucked.
Wing was successfully into his long speech and had hopes of actually doing it in one go this time when he was devastatingly interrupted by a shriek from the dressing rooms.
April's first reaction was to grimace and wonder what all the fuss was about. It had been going all perfectly but the sudden shout had disturbed the tender moment that Wing was having here. If the other actors were playing silly games in the dressing room, the Director was sure going to be displeased. That being a total, major and massive understatement of course. He was the first to leap out of his seat and angrily stalk off towards the offending noises which were increasing in volume from the smaller side room, a look of unholy anger clearly exuding from his heavy breathing. Ah, pity those who are so unfortunate to cross his path. Rather make a pact with the devil than cross the Director.
Gon and Killua were naturally curious. Their parts were boring today - just standing or sitting around looking eagerly attentive. Now they brashly dashed off behind the director to see what the commotion was all about. She caught Toby glancing at her with wistful puppy dog eyes and she frowned.
"All right! Go if you must! Gees, doesn't anyone value their jobs and professionalism these days?" she mumbled and found a chair lying around to sit and take a small break whilst another little storm blew itself out. But when the resounding sound of a stinging slap echoed around the small studio, her curiosity perked, and making sure no one was looking, she inconspicuously moved slowly over to the dressing room too. Gossip was one thing, scandals however was all together a very different matter and you were entirely forgiven to have been curious.
Illumi's face had reddened beyond red from the anger and humiliation. The wierdo who had latched onto him the moment he entered the dressing room was impressively strong, but he didn't applaud him for that. Rather, when he managed to work one arm free, he put all his strength behind it and bought his hand down across the red haired man's face.
Hisoka was drowned in a sea of blissful sweetness, a refreshingly honeyed taste from those soft and inviting lips. He wanted to delve further to see what other delights he would find in the warm, wet cavern when he was thoroughly stunned by a slap across his cheek.
"You freaking pervert! Let go!" Illumi shrieked with indignity and viciously struggled against the arms encircled around him. To his rising horror, the arms began to grip tighter, but that was till -
Silva's ungodly angry face came in between them and in one ferocious tug pulled the pair apart. Illumi began panting for air and the usual side- effects of an overdose of shock of fear but he managed to put up a defensive stance of sorts. Fortunately for Hisoka, he finally awoke from his little dreamland and looked innocently at Silva.
"You fool!" Silva hissed and gave the magician another shake with both hands. "What in *gods name* do you *think* you were doing? Or perhaps you're not thinking at all?!"
"Just having a bit of fun." Hisoka mumbled so quietly that even Silva barely heard. The Director suppressed his infamous murderous scowl and forced himself not to rip Hisoka's insolent head off with his bare hands. Instead, he ran through a series of breathing patterns to calm himself and cleared his throat to indicate change of topic.
"Hisoka, meet Illumi. He's the person I told you to show around town."
There was a long pause dominated by Hisoka blinking rapidly and then some more.
"He?" the magician finally managed to squawk.
Silva uncharacteristically nodded with endearing patience.
"He?" Hisoka repeated again.
"Please stop gaping like a fish Hisoka. It's very unattractive." The Director said.
"HE?" Hisoka's said for the third time and denial shone through like a burning sun. "It can't be." His hands experimentally wandered up to feel the (very) disappointingly flat chest on Illumi. He frowned and felt some more just to be sure.
"Are you done groping me yet?!" Illumi indignantly said through clenched teeth and bought one foot done hard on Hisoka's. The magician yelped in part pain and surprise but it was tears of utter, utter disappointment that welled up in his narrow eyes.
"It can't be!" he sniffed and looked pleadingly to Silva to tell him otherwise. But the Director was never known to show comfort or condolence to people, nor was he going to start now. But this was considerably the most ridiculous situation he'd found him self in, ever.
Hisoka and Illumi were both on the verge of crying. The magician still had extreme difficulties in accepting the facts laid bare before him, or perhaps he couldn't overcome the sense of tragedy and loss that one so beautiful as Illumi was anything but a woman. Illumi on the other hand, having been thoroughly scandalized in front of so many people he didn't know was equally angry and humiliated and at a loss as to what he could do but break down into sobs.
"I'm not going to go around the city with *him*." He said at last and determinedly looked away.
Hisoka's look of desolate dejection rapidly became one of anger. "You think I want to go out with you too? Can't you see how unfair it is from *my* perspective? You ARE NOT A WOMAN! Oh! The shame and waste! The tragedy!" he moaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. "You can't just tempt me like this and then turn around and say you are a man! This is not fair, this is not fair, this is not fair." his voice trailed off with lackluster spirit and he merely starred hollowly at the floor.
But his words only offended Illumi further who currently had thoughts about seriously hurting Hisoka's more vulnerable body parts. "It's your stupid fault in the first place! I've never known anyone who'd go straight up to a stranger and then just start...start slobbering all over them!" he finished off severely with heavily flushed cheeks. "If you'd behaved more like a gentlemen or just a man with some decency in him...Gods, I've never been so outraged and humiliated!"
From the rather crowded doorway, amidst the grinning and snickering faces, Toby mumbled something to April. "They sound like my parents fighting."
"SILENCE!" Silva thundered. The mere raising of his voice alone created a gust of icy cold wind which blew around them all, causing the tiny hairs on the back of their necks to dance wildly in terror. Illumi and Hisoka, subject to the full wrath of the fearsome Director of Hunter Works, naturally leaned and huddled towards each other with lips firmly pressed shut and their trembling hands tightly held onto each other's for comfort and support in their direst, blackest hour. Bickerings aside, it was time to be serious when Death with billowing white hair was glaring you down just two feet away, harbouring the intent to devour you if you did not comply with His wishes. "You two sound worse than Killua and Alluka fighting over the latest Pokemon collector cards! Get out of the building this INSTANT, and you Hisoka!" he diverted his full and magnificently intimidating attention to the magician who was trying to put on a brave face under his trembling skin. "Take Illumi around the city and let him meet all the right people! Is that understood?"
The mismatched pair bolted before replying, although Illumi may have let out a distressed cry, and they headed straight for the nearest exist, nearly running over some people if need be.
From the crowded doorway, now hurriedly dissipating yet still buzzing furiously with gossip and suppressed laughter, Killua noticed Gon giving him yet another strange look, someone akin to the one Gon gave him in the café on level two yesterday.
"You're looking at me differently again Gon. Is something wrong?"
"It's just that....Killua...you collect Pokemon cards?"
Killua declined to comment.
=============
11:00am At the cheery restaurant
Hisoka found that Illumi was by nature a relatively shy and quiet person and also very agreeable when he wasn't angry. And he was certainly a forgiving person as well.
"You can stop apologizing now." He was now embarrassed by Hisoka's sincerity. They sat opposite each other in an overly bright and genki restaurant which was mostly dominated by young couples and groups of chattering and giggling girls. The white plastic chairs with the cushioned seat were a nice touch, and under the shade of a large umbrella on a summer's morning allowed him to remain outside, yet barely affected by the rising heat. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you the way I did too. I guess I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"Do you get mistaken for being....well, you know?"
Illumi sighed pathetically with eyes downcast. "Yeah, almost everyday. But I guess it's - " he abruptly broke off and stared hard at Hisoka as if he had just been asked a highly sensitive and taboo question. Illumi's sudden change in mood stunned the clown, so he sat patiently and anxiously waited to see if the young lass opposite him would explain what was wrong.
Oh, something was wrong all right. Illumi bit his tongue back and swallowed the words just in time before he let slip his darkest and deepest secrets to a man he had barely met for three hours. His whole image, personality and presentation had become an art which he had finely crafted for almost two decades and he wasn't about to let slip this wondrous and awful façade to a nobody. Granted, it had been a while since he sat with someone of literally no or barely any significant importance so conversation flowed freely, perhaps just a bit too freely that he had almost dropped his guard.
And somehow, he felt himself liking this relaxed attitude very much. Here, they sat at the table as equals, neither a superior being to the other. There were no cards and trumps to be played or dealings to be made underneath the table. Neither was trying to gain some leverage or power over the other with hidden, dark secrets or information, and he could laugh when something was funny or glare and become threatening if Hisoka tread on some delicate matters.
Was he feeling happy? Was his heart light and smiling, laughing at this sudden remarkable, yet subtly simple setting?
He smiled brightly at Hisoka for no particular reason and let the entire subject drop. Thankfully, Hisoka also dropped his guard (though very warily and cautiously) and the waitress in short black skirt and frilly white apron came over to take their orders. Illumi carefully averted his eyes from her generous cleavage and bulging chest, but his chaperone reacted otherwise.
"I'd like a short black and two plates of that layered sponge cake you had the other day, you know, the one with the fruit salad cream?" Hisoka gave the waitress a smile which harboured cruel intentions.
The waitress with the short black skirt was totally oblivious however. Maybe she had become desensitized to these sorts of looks.
"Yep!" she scribbled furiously on her white paper pad settled firmly on the palm of her hand. "And what about you ma'am?"
Illumi brilliantly ignored her mistake and studied his menu of drinks. "I'll take the iced chocolate please."
When the waitress walked away with Hisoka glancing very appreciatively at her swinging hips, he reluctantly turned his attention back to Illumi.
"Hot chocolate? That's what twelve year olds drink. Why haven't you moved onto coffee yet?"
Illumi stuck out his tongue at him. "So what if I like hot chocolate? I just don't understand how you can drink down that bitter guck!"
Hisoka reeled back slightly. "Bitter guck? That's the first I've heard coffee described that way. How about your little self, still stuck with a sweet tooth?" he said equally jokingly.
The friendly banter continued until the pieces of dessert arrived on fancy plates bordered with cute pink flowers and its center marked with bright yellow spots. Two large, generous pieces of sponge cake lay invitingly with the fork neatly placed beside them. Illumi swallowed as he watched Hisoka separated a small piece and popped it into his mouth.
The thick layers of cream made Illumi uneasy. It instantly made connections and parallels to his grossly overweight brother Milluki in his mind and he vigorously vowed never to become that size, ever. So whilst the magician opposite him slowly chewed on the desert, he sipped slowly on his iced chocolate and his mind began its slow, tedious debate. Part of him wished that he could taste the wonderful cake suggestively laid out before him whilst the other part of him was damning him to the eternal infernos of gym and long, long runs if he so much as picked up the fork.
Hisoka resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but ever since the sponge cake arrived, Illumi had done nothing but freeze up and tightly sip up his iced chocolate through the straw being flattened by his grinding teeth. He definitely looked attracted to the food, yet he gave off the impression that he was mighty uneasy and hesitant. And did he just catch a glimpse of fear in those remarkably large, black eyes?
"It's low fat cream. I can assure you it won't ruin your figure." He nonchalantly said after a frustrated while. Illumi physically balked, like he had been awakened from a chance and stared numbly at Hisoka. The magician sighed and cut a small piece of the delicacy from his plate and conveyed it directly into Illumi's mouth with his fork.
Illumi had been about to respond and object to Hisoka's statement about his figure when the magician surprised him by pushing a piece of cake into his mouth. He blushed, slowly chewed on it and frankly found the taste delightful and pleasant. It invariably bought a small happy smile to his lips which Hisoka reckoned was the most endearing and precious thing he'd even seen.
And that also bought a smile to his lips. He patiently waited for Illumi to swallow, then fed him another piece of cake. Strangely, Hisoka felt himself deriving a pleasure from doing this.
Unbeknownst to the pair, the synonymous sound of a camera was rapidly clicking away in an inconspicuous corner of the restaurant.
===========
Paku chatted quietly at the foyer of Toguro Brother's Gym with Shizuku. She was already changed and dressed in her sports clothes and she hated and despised every moment of it. Oh, she loved her lycra gear all right - the way the soft black material hugged at her shapely thighs, how it accommodated her every curve and how fashionable it was becoming lately with the other star actors. It's just that the thought of Thursday Gym Night was a very painful and depressing matter, one which was hard to quell or dismiss. Unlike Tuesday s and Wednesday s, where she would take the relaxing, yet challenging, Pilate's classes with Toguro Ani (and she had never seen a more flexible man in her life), Thursday s were the domain of Karen, the ultra fit aerobics and taibo instructor from Graude Foundation.
Karen was technically from Graude Foundation's subsidiary - Elia. She received a decent role in B't X, but found sports and fitness more to her calling. On the set, she got to show off her impressive athletic skills, and she made sure no one had any other contrary ideas about her off the set either. So on Thursday nights, she took Toguro Ani's usual yoga class and transformed it into a rigorous, endurance test of every lady's fitness. She noted that a particularly detatched woman with short, straight straw blond hair which reached her chin and an impressive chest managed to grumble her way through every moment of it.
Paku didn't bother hiding her disdain and contempt for these Thursday gym nights, and especially the health freak taking the course. The exercises bored her, the high kicks also made her muscles groan and the stretching afterwards was downright torture. Of course, she found the entire experience a total bore, and when Pakunoda was bored, she usually bitched about whoever just happened to piss her off. Even down in the foyer, she made her thoughts and opinions quiet clear to her more silent and observant co-star.
"I don't understand how kicking, punching and doing star jumps for an hour straight is going to further my career. When it comes to toning the body, I was doing fine with Toguro Ani or the skywalker in the gym. I don't need any of this. It's only useless pain, pain that I can do without!"
Shizuku blinked her large brown eyes behind her large framed glasses. "I guess Paku, but frankly, I don't think Toguro Ani's class gives me the sort of endurance training that Karen-san gives us. I definitely feel more energetic after her classes."
"Oh Shizu," Paku rolled her eyes. "You think too good of everyone. Have you ever had one nasty thought enter your head? I swear that woman's just out to make us suffer. I bet she enjoys our tortured looks and expressions as well."
"Try looking at the bright side since this is compulsory anyway. By doing Taibo, we're 80% guaranteed to be able to fight off sexual predators and protect ourselves."
"What about the other 20% then?" Paku said sardonically.
Shizuku tapped her finger lightly on her chin in thought, her eyes looking up and she hummed a bit. "I guess we could probably out run those attackers because we'll be fitter than them. Think about it, after four blocks, they would certainly be puffing for dear life and we'd be fine, probably do another ten blocks if we really wanted. So you see Paku, I think we all get some benefits out of this aferall."
Pakunoda flicked her hair back in one dismissive gesture and grumbled some more. Some of the other male co-actors were now arriving and they were almost shouting at each other, each vying for the other's attention.
"I wonder what the hot topic for today is." Shizuku said, pushing up her glasses so they sat more firmly. She glanced at Paku beside her, whose eyes were narrowed with curiosity and very much resembled an alley cat on the prowl.
"HE KISSED A MAN?!" Ubo roared out in good humored laughter, the vibrations from his laugh could be felt by the actors around him. He playfully placed his massive hand on Gon's spiky and unruly hair. Gon glared at the huge man.
"Can you say it any louder?" he half snarled half hissed, but more people around him laughed. Even Killua wasn't holding back. "Are you sure we should be discussing this in the open, I mean, won't it be bad for Hunter's reputation?" he pleaded again in Killua's direction. Hisoka was, after all, one of his few friends that he could talk to on some matters. It didn't do well that everyone was discussing him with the same vindictive enthusiasm as they did with Darien.
Kuroro didn't bother hiding his huge grin, which was rare. A smile on Dancho's lips was as common as a spotted mouse who could memorize the first hundred and four decimals in pie. "Tell us how Hisoka reacted again Wing. More detail please."
"He had tears in his eyes, seriously." Wing too, had a fiercely wicked grin too. Although he presented himself as a somewhat neat, unthreatening and fragile man, he was in fact capable of many psychologically destructive acts. Preying on the humor and inflaming gossip just happened to be one of his specialties. "He said: It can't be true! Over and over again, then wailed some more."
"You mean all this, and in front of the Director?" Bashou asked.
"Yup! And Dad was *this* close to ripping Hisoka's heart out. It was so funny!" Killua squealed with delight. He held out a minimal distance between his thumb and forefinger for Bashou to see and the older man also burst out laughing.
"Oh, there's Paku and Shizu waiting already." Hanzo piped up. "Heya! We have a very humorous tale to tell. For the right price, I can give you a smile for the rest of the night, even if you have to do Taibo for the next two hours."
"I'll spare you my fist in your shiny bald head. Is that price enough?" Paku asked coolly.
Hanzo easily ignored the physical threat for his mood was too elated, even though the event occurred early in the morning. "It was only a figure of speech Paku. I would love to see you actually look amiable for once on Thursday Gym Nights! Menchi's parking her car, but she's got the whole story. Ask her when she arrives ok."
But a silence rapidly fell on the rowdy group as the people central to the gossip finally arrived. Illumi's eyes perked up with curiosity behind Hisoka when the latter casually greeted all the people. And everyone else saw a large pair of shy and inquisitive eyes slowly peek up from behind Hisoka's shoulder to blink and quietly study them.
"Ok guys, this is Illumi, the one I'm supposed to be looking after for the next two weeks. Say your hellos and lets get through another gym night ok? In the meantime, let me find..Ah! Toguro! Just who I was looking for!"
The tan, tall, muscular and confident man had just left his office after a day of dealing with mind numbing paper work and was about to go out to dinner when one of his clients called him by name. Only very few people did that - either those who held little or no disregard for their health, or those who were his good friends, and they were few. Sometimes, he wondered which category Hisoka fell into.
"Toguro, could you please set up a little program for Illumi here?"
Close up, Toguro was not only impressive, but also carried about him an intimidating aura which could almost frighten off most street thugs and hooligans by his mere presence alone. Up close and personal, you either trembled beneath his gaze (and almighty biceps and pecs) or you foolishly defied him, much to the objection of your health.
Illumi was naturally wary of the big man, and his slight step backwards could be described as 'cowering behind Hisoka'. Toguro on the other hand only glanced over him turned his attention back to Hisoka.
"I recommend that Illumi-dono go with the other ladies to Karen's Taibo and Aerobics session tonight. Perhaps she could fix something up afterwards. I mean, we do have very strict separation rules here, as you all well know."
Separation rules as in rigorously separating the men and the women to create a more friendly gym environment where women or men could go about training and not be harassed by the opposite sex. Other women also felt more comfortable when their instructors were women too.
'Not again,' Hisoka thought dully. 'How many times do I have to go through this routine? This is the.what? Sixth time today that I've had to explain: no, he's staying with me?' The magician gave a small sigh.
Everyone else tried to suppress giggles.
Illumi tried very hard not to look hurt.
"It's ok Hisoka. I'll see what Karen-san can do for me."
Hisoka whirled around, his face furious. "It's not that you little baka!" he couldn't help hissing and pouring his frustrations on poor Illumi whose little pout and meek gesture of defence only infuriated him even more. "If they found out *what* you are in that Taibo room, they'll rip you to shreds! There are some women in there who don't like men to see them in their tight and fitted clothes, and this causes quite violent reactions sometimes, do you understand?!"
Miraculously, Illumi was able suppress his emotions and he gave a cold nod after staring long and hard into Hisoka's harsh eyes. Almost monotonously, he replied: "I like the step machine and treadmill. I'll just work on those tonight. It's obvious that Toguro-san has places to go to, right?"
The co-owner of the Gym sheepishly nodded his head and some gave appreciative 'ahs'. He obviously had a date with Genkai tonight. Hisoka finally caught the drift.
"Oh..I see.well, um.I'll just look after Illumi tonight, you have a good time ok?" He wearily turned around at the stoic faced Illumi and gave an apologetic sigh. "Lets go get changed. I'll turn one of those treadmills on for you."
Only the first day of his suspension, and he was already loosing his grip on things, Hisoka thought depressingly. And it would probably just all end in tears - he just knew it.
I personally had a lot of fun doing this chapter. I think there'll be more to come as well ( So keep reading, and I'll pump out Chapter 5 VERY soon - promise. And of course, please review!
Chapter 4
Showing the New Kid around - Part I *This* is the new kid? Oh gees!
Kuroro von Drosgen's parents had once been the most famous actors of their era, dominating the big screens around the world as the perfect, most glamorous couple. She, the raven haired beauty with flawless alabaster skin and sensuous rose red lips and he, the finest specimen ever known to man with a body that would make Adonis jealous. Whether it be steamy love scenes on the golden sands of the beach or the heart breaking separation on a desolate, gray snowy day at a Russian train platform during the war, they captured the adulation and hearts of their viewers and critiques. When their first child, Kuroro, was born, everyone embraced high aspirations in the entertainment industry for him too. With a crop of thick, gleaming black hair and wide, large ebony eyes, he had already featured in many movies from the tender age of five, always as the bright, intelligent and sparkling child protégé that his parents had put him up to. He even participated in several Broadway productions, his most impressive work being the Jolly Roger in Oliver Twist - an animated and charmingly deceitful boy making his living as a pick pocket in the bleak times of the English Industrial Revolution.
But in his own private room, bedroom door firmly bolted, he was a quiet boy, a lonely lass who brooded and detested every moment of this glamorous life. All the bright stages, the spotlights, the cooing crowds, the flashy clothes, the sparkling jewelry - they bought no comfort, no warmth. In fact, he had always been a quietly intelligent boy who would rather remain silent and listen and observe the many conversations around him rather than be the center of attention.
But the society his parents had introduced him into by the time he could comprehend life was an artificially repulsive one, dominated by fake smiles, obligatory formalities and ridiculous conventions. He had to meet the right people, say the correct things and confine himself to certain behaviours in public. It was a rigid and uninteresting life, one that he certainly didn't want when he had enough brains to decide for himself. So why was he still in the acting industry? Why was he still listening to the cohorts of his parents?
The answer was simple - they ruthlessly exploited his weak spot, heckled it without mercy. As the eldest child, Kuroro had always had a sense of family and duty, and didn't his cunning parents exploit that. Whenever he had a contrary idea or thought to them, they pulled out the ever used and ever still usable guilt trip which subdued their eldest child and brought him to their heels. Over the past twenty six years of his life, they had chosen the correct films and scripts for him to mould him into the same man that his father had been in his prime.
THAT was until Kuroro met Aoishi and Legato prowling the city streets at night, two men who still hadn't shed their adolescent recklessness and did what they want, ate when they felt like it. It was when Kuroro was doing research on what it was really like to be in a rave nightclub and how people acted for his latest, supposedly image breaking movie when his mere presence alone almost stopped the crowd.
"What's a straight jacket like you doing in here?" Legato said. He was obviously drunk and his mind was so far out of this universe but he had no intention of pulling it back. He violently shook a can of beer in one hand, then with a mischievous grin aimed and released the contents at his clubbing partner - the ever still immature Aoishi. The Meijin Dynasty actor nimbly dodged and disappeared into the press of bodies - half of them naked from the top. The constant thumping of the bass and loud music almost drowned out Legato's words and he strained hard to concentrate on the conversation.
"Research." He responded quietly. Legato's eyes narrowed and he lost complete trace of his friend, so with a shrug, he gave up and turned his attention to Mr. Perfect.
"You mean fun to you has to be researched? Man, you gotta get out a bit more."
"As a matter of fact, I do." Kuroro suddenly felt indignant. He resisted the urge to glare at the young upstart.
"Hey, no offence! But seriously, I don't call attending those prom parties and balls of yours very entertaining. Half the women there are like dead fish in bed and what kind of music do they listen to again? That's right! Classical music! Come on man! I can make farting noises that sound better!"
Kuroro chose to remain silent at that comment. The loud racket of shouts and modern pop music continued to ravage his ears. It was becoming unbearable to tolerate.
Legato regarded Kuroro's solemn stance and he giggled. "Oops, must have said what everyone's been saying."
"Everyone?" one eyebrow raised in suspicion.
Legato gave a mock sigh and shook his head. He laid a comforting arm around Kuroro's shoulder, but the latter wanted to shrink away from the heavy, whiff of alcohol. "I guess I should spare you and rescue you from the dark? Is that the right phrase? Whatever. Anyway," he breathed out again and Kuroro decided to stop breathing for the duration of the conversation "what everyone's been anticipating is your final break away from your dominating parents."
"There's nothing wrong with fulfilling your filial duty. Perhaps if you listened to your parents more, you wouldn't be messing up your mind with whatever crap you're taking." He remembered himself responding coldly and that it easily cut through the unceasing din and reached Legato's ears with absolute ease.
But gold eyed man ignored him and swayed a bit, leaning on him for balance. "Lets face it Mr. Square, nobody likes you because you go around with that stuck up, snobbish attitude of yours. If you are really looking for a challenge, I suggest you find this man and get yourself a part in his business."
And Legato Bluesummers took off with a lurch and stumbled into the crowd. He left a crinkled, dirty and smelly piece of paper in his hand, but on it was clearly written "Silva Zoldick - Hunter Works, accepting auditions."
So the next day, bright and early, he went to the Hunter Works studio, recently built and opened, and acquired a copy of the script. He sat in Reception's thickly cushioned chairs for the next four hours, his large dark eyes hungrily devouring each word of the wondrous story and he felt a spiteful smile pulling at his lips. Of all the parts still vacant, he had his eyes on one in particular - to play the leader of the mass murdering gang of thieves - the Genei Ryodan! Farewell my good-boy image, the honourable hero or the honest cop, welcome, the leader of the most notorious syndicate of criminals!
The fact that he won the position and successfully carried out his shoots without interference or interruption was always a mood lifting thought. His parents had no idea, and they would probably faint when the series was finally broadcasted around the nation - and even around the world, given the Director's mighty ambitions. He even felt well enough to return home. How long had it been? Seven months since he moved out and acquired his own single bedroom flat in Suburbia near the city and finally felt truly marvelous at the final breaking of his restraints. Megumi and Darien were at home to look after his parents, and he WAS twenty six - time to finally become independent. His departure from home made the small news, as did his participation in the production of Hunter x Hunter, but he didn't mind. The articles expressed curiosity rather than criticism at his behaviour, and he prided in the fact that he was the first to bring the small bit of gossip and publicity to Hunter x Hunter.
And his thoughts about Hunter x Hunter so far? He loved every minute of it - the different types of people he met, the unique scenes and settings, the expressly forbidden use of stunt doubles in fight scenes, and how everyone became another family to him. The numerous bloopers suffered on the shooting gave everyone a fun, relaxed time, especially when the giggles were so contagious that you'd of thought that laughing gas was being leaked into the room. And although gym nights were humiliating and painful, it bought out everyone's genuine side and they all went off happily to dinner and wherever the party took them afterwards. Life was good.
He finally arrived at the white picket fence outside his 'old' home, and his perfect black Labrador stuck his wet nose on his outstretched hand and gave his face a thorough welcome home lather. He looked at his watch and noted the time - it was still early, only eleven thirty. After dinner, they settled for a few beers and further gossip and jokes to cheer up Hisoka. Others gave contributions as to what he could do with Illumi in the next two weeks - a lot of these suggest however, unfortunately revolved around the Barney circus currently taking up the local park with its enormous purple tent.
He fumbled for his keys and found the correct one. Inserting it into the lock, giving it a sharp twist and one swift push, and he was in the neat and prim house. It made him sick.
"Darien? Is that you? I told you to stay in your room for a few days!" his father's voice floated down the dim entrance hall. He guess he shouldn't smile at his little brother's unfortunate predicament, but wasn't that exactly the reason why Paku and the others had been able to persuade him to go home and confront? He cleared his throat feeling an unfamiliar, unknown confidence he'd never felt before swell up in his heart. And it made him feel good.
"No dad, it's me, Kuro."
He remembered that his dad had a glass of red wine each night in the kitchen around this hour, and so knew exactly where to find him.
The kitchen was brightly lit, revealing your conventional, neat and dainty cooking area, complete with a small round table and matching chairs in one corner where his father sat. His back was still as straight as an arrow, and even though he had a few grew hairs on the side of his head, he carried them with dignity. However, he noticed the few extra wrinkles recently developed at the corners of his eyes. That must have been due to the worry caused by Darien's little neked run down town.
"You know it's your fault Kuroro. If you'd been home to look after your little brother, he wouldn't have shamed himself the way he did."
He fought off the fending anger and he bit the bitter and hateful words back. He could do better than that. Instead, he gave an easy, lofty smile.
"I don't know how you can even blame me for that dad," he said with ever tender patience "he's adult now, and he wouldn't take it too kindly if I told him who he should be going out with and who he shouldn't be going out with. In fact, I dare say that he might even try to punch me if I interfered with his social life."
Dad grunted. "You're full of excuses these days, ever since you hooked up with those lowly, B grade actors. You could have taken the main role in Westside Story and broadened your acting skills, but instead, you opt to take up a minor role in...who are you working for again?"
"His name's Silva Zoldick. But that's not the reason why I'm here tonight." He was surprised at how calm and relaxed he felt right now even though hi dad treated him like a dog. "I never intended this to be a friendly visit, but since we're still family, I thought I'd help you clarify the few things in your precious life that can actually make you frown and give you wrinkles."
His dad cocked an eyebrow and took the cap off the crystal decanter to pour himself another blood red glass of wine.
Kuroro stepped forward with Hanzo's newly refurbished compendium titled - "The Real TRUTH behind Darien von Drosgen on the Night he was Caught by Police for Streaking" in big, gold embossed letters on the leather cover. At first, the bald ninja harboured many frustrations as to whether he would be able to capitalize all the words in the title. But when it wouldn't fit on the one page, he was forced to cut down and choose one word to highlight, and it was going to be 'streaking' at first, but then Phinx suggested that it would be more catchy if 'truth' was capitalized instead - truth always got people fascinated - especially when they had thought they had already heard it all. In response, a wicked grin surfaced and Hanzo became eternally grateful to Phinx. It was a very limited and exclusive copy, with only fifty printed so far, but ever since someone 'accidentally' slipped a copy to the local paparazzi, other journalists began spreading their informants around the city, to the local pubs, stores, hair salons, cafes and clothes store, hoping to find the source of this earth shattering news. They quietly slipped the rumor that they were willing to pay five thousand a piece for whoever could present them with a copy. It was very easy pocket money indeed, and being a ninja and all, Hanzo could be VERY inconspicuous when he wanted to. Thus in the space of two hours of the circulation of the latest Compendium, another two hundred copies were on order. He took the book and placed it on the kitchen bench. If his dad wanted to read it, he could, if not, he would send him a bill for the book. It was, after all, an exclusive copy.
"Good night father." He said simply, then with the new airs of an independent and *real* human being, he strolled down the hall and back out into the front yard, gently closing the door behind him again. The good thing was, he didn't feel an ounce of guilt. He knew for once that what he was doing was right.
=============
Thursday, 9:00 am
Hisoka had a good night's sleep for once. He went back to his rented apartment at a time he considered to be early, but after the extra exertions he spent at the gym, his muscles began to complain in a small voice and since he vowed to stay away from his usual social groups for the next fortnight, tiredness turned into sleep, and the hours easily rolled past him.
The alarm clock woke up him at the decent time of seven thirty - when the sun wasn't too low in the sky to be called morning, and it wasn't too high up either to be called late morning and make him feel guilty for sleeping in. Carefully tiptoeing around the messes in his room, the dirty, unwashed plates and cutlery scattered on the tattered carpeted floor, half read magazines with torn pages carelessly stacked in one corner, one of the many stacks had tumbled and spilled over.
He stumbled into the bathroom and picked out a relatively clean towel and plunged into a freezing and refreshingly cold shower.
"Brrr." he shivered as he stepped back out and wrapped his towel tightly around his body, looking around for any clean clothes. He approached his closet and instantly rummaged through from left to right. Suits weren't appropriate today, his usual sports T-shirts.....he sniffed twice and almost retched. They needed a desperate wash, and so did half the other clothes also shriveled up like dead corpses on the dirty ground. Where was the wash basket under the mountains of dirt and grime?
At last, he found a pair of pants that were wearable for summer, a pale khaki coloured pants which reached just above his ankles. He supposed that it was fashionable, since it was given free with the last modeling job that he did, and a slightly fitted dark red t-shirt that actually smelt good and didn't have a wrinkle in it.
He admired his gauntly handsome and pale face in the mirror. He breathed onto it and gave the mirror a quick wipe down first before he could properly study his image. Picking up a comb, the brushed his hair back and applied only the merest layer of gel for some style.
"Acceptable Hisoka, acceptable indeed." He muttered and quickly picked up his keys, deftly slipped into a comfortable pair of runners and wondered how he could best enjoy his two week suspension with a kid tagging along. Taking a deep breath, he opened the front door and stepped out into the morning sun. Time to start the day.
==============
"Good morning!" he cheered at the receptionist and without waiting for an answer made straight for the lift. According to the original time table, Killua and Gon would be doing their little lesson with Wing and Zuuchi. That would be in a small room setting on level two. Later, there would be another retake of yesterday's interrupted scene as well. So, best to wait in the dressing room to see what everyone was up to. Silva may have suspended him for two weeks, but suspension did not mean his physical expulsion from the building in the next fortnight.
He looked about him with small interest, noting that Wing had again forgotten his lines. Ahhh...to explain nen was complex indeed.
"Tongue got twisted. Can we do that again?"
Several of the crewmen chuckled and everyone continued with the serious work.
Hisoka silently entered the change rooms without attracting any unnecessary attention to himself and noted that Hanzo was busy scribbling on bits of paper to the point that sweat gleamed on his bald head. Hisoka regarded it with a certain amount of awe as he could almost see his own reflection.
"Hey Hanzo, shouldn't you be practicing your one finger hand stand? We're going to be taking those acts soon."
"Not today Hisoka, I'm making money right now! A truckload in fact!"
"Oh?" the magician quietly glanced over Hanzo's shoulder at what he was doing.
"You know that baby I was distributing two days ago?"
"Uh huh" Hisoka also had a copy of the scrapbook which had gone around the city two days ago.
"Well, I upgraded it by slipping in a few truths and never before seen material just to fall short of it all be defamatory! Guess how much my next shipment's going to make me! Two hundred copies for five thousand each..that works out to One Million! But of course, there are deductions from the publication to be made - see the exquisite gold lettering on the cover, or the fine quality of the leather which it is on. And the newspaper clippings are in full colour with the squares over certain parts of the anatomy removed!" he exclaimed joyously.
"How did you manage to edit the pictures?" Hisoka picked up Hanzo's own Compendium of Truth about Darien's Night of Streaking and felt his eyebrows go up as he turned each page. The material that Hanzo collected was most impressive. It seems that he has literally bought out all the pictures that each and every journo from every publication snapped on the night and arranged it into a nice little photo album, chronologically, and then placed a ten thousand word thesis on Darien Von Drosgen's past and what led to the little escapade on Monday night.
"If I'm not wrong, I'd say that this was the work of....Shalnark! You're in cohorts together aren't you! Aiding and abetting to bring down Mr. Top Hat Wearing, Tuxedo Prancing, Rose Throwing, Mask Wearing little Casanova!"
The ninja beamed his biggest and most triumphant smile at Hisoka.
"And the real beauty is that with my skills of avoidance, disguise and ability to outrun almost anyone in the city, a few exceptions of course," he added the last bit hastily stealing a quick glance to see if Hisoka was offended or not "I'm not going to be caught!"
Hisoka and Hanzo both shared a solemn, knowing look.
"Code Duello." They muttered softly like a prayer on their lips, a saviour of their dignity and self respect, the passionate holy angel of fury to descend from the fiery heavens to strike down those who would so callously tread on the self esteem of others for their own arrogant elation. O, to strike back and to savour the bitter sweet taste of vengeance! How some men would gladly commit their lives to such a worthy and noble endeavour!
Did they fail to mention how long Darien had been on top of that list for? How long they had been waiting for the chance to finally scratch his name off the list as yet another sacrificial lamb for the long standing Code?
Their satisfied sigh was interrupted by the soft footsteps that entered the dressing room. Had it not been the unfamiliar smell perfume in the air, Hanzo and the magician would not have bothered to look. But because they sensed a new and unfamiliar presence, they turned their heads and suffered various different reactions.
Hanzo's eyes went large and he immediately began to fluster. The temperature in the room suddenly rose like hell fire and his skin started tingling and his hands felt wet and clammy. His tongue turned into lead and his throat shut down and refused to allow him to even stutter a 'Good morning'. ~Damnit Hanzo! Why do you always freeze up when you see an attractive woman?~ he berated to himself, the frustrated shouts and curses resounding loudly in his mind.
Hisoka's first reaction was to gravitate towards the newcomer who he had never seen before. She was the most exquisite and lovely creature that he had ever beheld, her flowing black mane, her large coal black eyes, her pale alabaster skin, her small nose and slightly puckered mouth. He drew in a deep breath. She might as well have "Eat me!" tattooed to her forehead. A charming and predatory smile began to surface and without hesitation (unlike a certain rock golem glued to his chair) he introduced himself.
His eyes never left hers for a single moment as he emblazoned her every detail in his mind. The silken blue shirt loosely hanging over a pair of black shorts, both items revealing fragile and slender arms and legs, so fine with its blemishless skin as silky as satin. Or her infinite grace, every gesture a smooth fluid moment that flowed from one action to another seamlessly. It didn't' help that the few buttons undone at the top of her shirt tempted him with her long neck and lavishing collar bone.
Hormones took over common sense and it prompted him to think: To hell with the introductions. Just grab and kiss her!
So Hisoka dutifully (and rather gladly) obeyed his testosterone driven mind and his arms shout out like arrows to capture his trophy and taste those strawberry pink lips which were just begging to be plucked.
Wing was successfully into his long speech and had hopes of actually doing it in one go this time when he was devastatingly interrupted by a shriek from the dressing rooms.
April's first reaction was to grimace and wonder what all the fuss was about. It had been going all perfectly but the sudden shout had disturbed the tender moment that Wing was having here. If the other actors were playing silly games in the dressing room, the Director was sure going to be displeased. That being a total, major and massive understatement of course. He was the first to leap out of his seat and angrily stalk off towards the offending noises which were increasing in volume from the smaller side room, a look of unholy anger clearly exuding from his heavy breathing. Ah, pity those who are so unfortunate to cross his path. Rather make a pact with the devil than cross the Director.
Gon and Killua were naturally curious. Their parts were boring today - just standing or sitting around looking eagerly attentive. Now they brashly dashed off behind the director to see what the commotion was all about. She caught Toby glancing at her with wistful puppy dog eyes and she frowned.
"All right! Go if you must! Gees, doesn't anyone value their jobs and professionalism these days?" she mumbled and found a chair lying around to sit and take a small break whilst another little storm blew itself out. But when the resounding sound of a stinging slap echoed around the small studio, her curiosity perked, and making sure no one was looking, she inconspicuously moved slowly over to the dressing room too. Gossip was one thing, scandals however was all together a very different matter and you were entirely forgiven to have been curious.
Illumi's face had reddened beyond red from the anger and humiliation. The wierdo who had latched onto him the moment he entered the dressing room was impressively strong, but he didn't applaud him for that. Rather, when he managed to work one arm free, he put all his strength behind it and bought his hand down across the red haired man's face.
Hisoka was drowned in a sea of blissful sweetness, a refreshingly honeyed taste from those soft and inviting lips. He wanted to delve further to see what other delights he would find in the warm, wet cavern when he was thoroughly stunned by a slap across his cheek.
"You freaking pervert! Let go!" Illumi shrieked with indignity and viciously struggled against the arms encircled around him. To his rising horror, the arms began to grip tighter, but that was till -
Silva's ungodly angry face came in between them and in one ferocious tug pulled the pair apart. Illumi began panting for air and the usual side- effects of an overdose of shock of fear but he managed to put up a defensive stance of sorts. Fortunately for Hisoka, he finally awoke from his little dreamland and looked innocently at Silva.
"You fool!" Silva hissed and gave the magician another shake with both hands. "What in *gods name* do you *think* you were doing? Or perhaps you're not thinking at all?!"
"Just having a bit of fun." Hisoka mumbled so quietly that even Silva barely heard. The Director suppressed his infamous murderous scowl and forced himself not to rip Hisoka's insolent head off with his bare hands. Instead, he ran through a series of breathing patterns to calm himself and cleared his throat to indicate change of topic.
"Hisoka, meet Illumi. He's the person I told you to show around town."
There was a long pause dominated by Hisoka blinking rapidly and then some more.
"He?" the magician finally managed to squawk.
Silva uncharacteristically nodded with endearing patience.
"He?" Hisoka repeated again.
"Please stop gaping like a fish Hisoka. It's very unattractive." The Director said.
"HE?" Hisoka's said for the third time and denial shone through like a burning sun. "It can't be." His hands experimentally wandered up to feel the (very) disappointingly flat chest on Illumi. He frowned and felt some more just to be sure.
"Are you done groping me yet?!" Illumi indignantly said through clenched teeth and bought one foot done hard on Hisoka's. The magician yelped in part pain and surprise but it was tears of utter, utter disappointment that welled up in his narrow eyes.
"It can't be!" he sniffed and looked pleadingly to Silva to tell him otherwise. But the Director was never known to show comfort or condolence to people, nor was he going to start now. But this was considerably the most ridiculous situation he'd found him self in, ever.
Hisoka and Illumi were both on the verge of crying. The magician still had extreme difficulties in accepting the facts laid bare before him, or perhaps he couldn't overcome the sense of tragedy and loss that one so beautiful as Illumi was anything but a woman. Illumi on the other hand, having been thoroughly scandalized in front of so many people he didn't know was equally angry and humiliated and at a loss as to what he could do but break down into sobs.
"I'm not going to go around the city with *him*." He said at last and determinedly looked away.
Hisoka's look of desolate dejection rapidly became one of anger. "You think I want to go out with you too? Can't you see how unfair it is from *my* perspective? You ARE NOT A WOMAN! Oh! The shame and waste! The tragedy!" he moaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. "You can't just tempt me like this and then turn around and say you are a man! This is not fair, this is not fair, this is not fair." his voice trailed off with lackluster spirit and he merely starred hollowly at the floor.
But his words only offended Illumi further who currently had thoughts about seriously hurting Hisoka's more vulnerable body parts. "It's your stupid fault in the first place! I've never known anyone who'd go straight up to a stranger and then just start...start slobbering all over them!" he finished off severely with heavily flushed cheeks. "If you'd behaved more like a gentlemen or just a man with some decency in him...Gods, I've never been so outraged and humiliated!"
From the rather crowded doorway, amidst the grinning and snickering faces, Toby mumbled something to April. "They sound like my parents fighting."
"SILENCE!" Silva thundered. The mere raising of his voice alone created a gust of icy cold wind which blew around them all, causing the tiny hairs on the back of their necks to dance wildly in terror. Illumi and Hisoka, subject to the full wrath of the fearsome Director of Hunter Works, naturally leaned and huddled towards each other with lips firmly pressed shut and their trembling hands tightly held onto each other's for comfort and support in their direst, blackest hour. Bickerings aside, it was time to be serious when Death with billowing white hair was glaring you down just two feet away, harbouring the intent to devour you if you did not comply with His wishes. "You two sound worse than Killua and Alluka fighting over the latest Pokemon collector cards! Get out of the building this INSTANT, and you Hisoka!" he diverted his full and magnificently intimidating attention to the magician who was trying to put on a brave face under his trembling skin. "Take Illumi around the city and let him meet all the right people! Is that understood?"
The mismatched pair bolted before replying, although Illumi may have let out a distressed cry, and they headed straight for the nearest exist, nearly running over some people if need be.
From the crowded doorway, now hurriedly dissipating yet still buzzing furiously with gossip and suppressed laughter, Killua noticed Gon giving him yet another strange look, someone akin to the one Gon gave him in the café on level two yesterday.
"You're looking at me differently again Gon. Is something wrong?"
"It's just that....Killua...you collect Pokemon cards?"
Killua declined to comment.
=============
11:00am At the cheery restaurant
Hisoka found that Illumi was by nature a relatively shy and quiet person and also very agreeable when he wasn't angry. And he was certainly a forgiving person as well.
"You can stop apologizing now." He was now embarrassed by Hisoka's sincerity. They sat opposite each other in an overly bright and genki restaurant which was mostly dominated by young couples and groups of chattering and giggling girls. The white plastic chairs with the cushioned seat were a nice touch, and under the shade of a large umbrella on a summer's morning allowed him to remain outside, yet barely affected by the rising heat. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you the way I did too. I guess I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"Do you get mistaken for being....well, you know?"
Illumi sighed pathetically with eyes downcast. "Yeah, almost everyday. But I guess it's - " he abruptly broke off and stared hard at Hisoka as if he had just been asked a highly sensitive and taboo question. Illumi's sudden change in mood stunned the clown, so he sat patiently and anxiously waited to see if the young lass opposite him would explain what was wrong.
Oh, something was wrong all right. Illumi bit his tongue back and swallowed the words just in time before he let slip his darkest and deepest secrets to a man he had barely met for three hours. His whole image, personality and presentation had become an art which he had finely crafted for almost two decades and he wasn't about to let slip this wondrous and awful façade to a nobody. Granted, it had been a while since he sat with someone of literally no or barely any significant importance so conversation flowed freely, perhaps just a bit too freely that he had almost dropped his guard.
And somehow, he felt himself liking this relaxed attitude very much. Here, they sat at the table as equals, neither a superior being to the other. There were no cards and trumps to be played or dealings to be made underneath the table. Neither was trying to gain some leverage or power over the other with hidden, dark secrets or information, and he could laugh when something was funny or glare and become threatening if Hisoka tread on some delicate matters.
Was he feeling happy? Was his heart light and smiling, laughing at this sudden remarkable, yet subtly simple setting?
He smiled brightly at Hisoka for no particular reason and let the entire subject drop. Thankfully, Hisoka also dropped his guard (though very warily and cautiously) and the waitress in short black skirt and frilly white apron came over to take their orders. Illumi carefully averted his eyes from her generous cleavage and bulging chest, but his chaperone reacted otherwise.
"I'd like a short black and two plates of that layered sponge cake you had the other day, you know, the one with the fruit salad cream?" Hisoka gave the waitress a smile which harboured cruel intentions.
The waitress with the short black skirt was totally oblivious however. Maybe she had become desensitized to these sorts of looks.
"Yep!" she scribbled furiously on her white paper pad settled firmly on the palm of her hand. "And what about you ma'am?"
Illumi brilliantly ignored her mistake and studied his menu of drinks. "I'll take the iced chocolate please."
When the waitress walked away with Hisoka glancing very appreciatively at her swinging hips, he reluctantly turned his attention back to Illumi.
"Hot chocolate? That's what twelve year olds drink. Why haven't you moved onto coffee yet?"
Illumi stuck out his tongue at him. "So what if I like hot chocolate? I just don't understand how you can drink down that bitter guck!"
Hisoka reeled back slightly. "Bitter guck? That's the first I've heard coffee described that way. How about your little self, still stuck with a sweet tooth?" he said equally jokingly.
The friendly banter continued until the pieces of dessert arrived on fancy plates bordered with cute pink flowers and its center marked with bright yellow spots. Two large, generous pieces of sponge cake lay invitingly with the fork neatly placed beside them. Illumi swallowed as he watched Hisoka separated a small piece and popped it into his mouth.
The thick layers of cream made Illumi uneasy. It instantly made connections and parallels to his grossly overweight brother Milluki in his mind and he vigorously vowed never to become that size, ever. So whilst the magician opposite him slowly chewed on the desert, he sipped slowly on his iced chocolate and his mind began its slow, tedious debate. Part of him wished that he could taste the wonderful cake suggestively laid out before him whilst the other part of him was damning him to the eternal infernos of gym and long, long runs if he so much as picked up the fork.
Hisoka resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but ever since the sponge cake arrived, Illumi had done nothing but freeze up and tightly sip up his iced chocolate through the straw being flattened by his grinding teeth. He definitely looked attracted to the food, yet he gave off the impression that he was mighty uneasy and hesitant. And did he just catch a glimpse of fear in those remarkably large, black eyes?
"It's low fat cream. I can assure you it won't ruin your figure." He nonchalantly said after a frustrated while. Illumi physically balked, like he had been awakened from a chance and stared numbly at Hisoka. The magician sighed and cut a small piece of the delicacy from his plate and conveyed it directly into Illumi's mouth with his fork.
Illumi had been about to respond and object to Hisoka's statement about his figure when the magician surprised him by pushing a piece of cake into his mouth. He blushed, slowly chewed on it and frankly found the taste delightful and pleasant. It invariably bought a small happy smile to his lips which Hisoka reckoned was the most endearing and precious thing he'd even seen.
And that also bought a smile to his lips. He patiently waited for Illumi to swallow, then fed him another piece of cake. Strangely, Hisoka felt himself deriving a pleasure from doing this.
Unbeknownst to the pair, the synonymous sound of a camera was rapidly clicking away in an inconspicuous corner of the restaurant.
===========
Paku chatted quietly at the foyer of Toguro Brother's Gym with Shizuku. She was already changed and dressed in her sports clothes and she hated and despised every moment of it. Oh, she loved her lycra gear all right - the way the soft black material hugged at her shapely thighs, how it accommodated her every curve and how fashionable it was becoming lately with the other star actors. It's just that the thought of Thursday Gym Night was a very painful and depressing matter, one which was hard to quell or dismiss. Unlike Tuesday s and Wednesday s, where she would take the relaxing, yet challenging, Pilate's classes with Toguro Ani (and she had never seen a more flexible man in her life), Thursday s were the domain of Karen, the ultra fit aerobics and taibo instructor from Graude Foundation.
Karen was technically from Graude Foundation's subsidiary - Elia. She received a decent role in B't X, but found sports and fitness more to her calling. On the set, she got to show off her impressive athletic skills, and she made sure no one had any other contrary ideas about her off the set either. So on Thursday nights, she took Toguro Ani's usual yoga class and transformed it into a rigorous, endurance test of every lady's fitness. She noted that a particularly detatched woman with short, straight straw blond hair which reached her chin and an impressive chest managed to grumble her way through every moment of it.
Paku didn't bother hiding her disdain and contempt for these Thursday gym nights, and especially the health freak taking the course. The exercises bored her, the high kicks also made her muscles groan and the stretching afterwards was downright torture. Of course, she found the entire experience a total bore, and when Pakunoda was bored, she usually bitched about whoever just happened to piss her off. Even down in the foyer, she made her thoughts and opinions quiet clear to her more silent and observant co-star.
"I don't understand how kicking, punching and doing star jumps for an hour straight is going to further my career. When it comes to toning the body, I was doing fine with Toguro Ani or the skywalker in the gym. I don't need any of this. It's only useless pain, pain that I can do without!"
Shizuku blinked her large brown eyes behind her large framed glasses. "I guess Paku, but frankly, I don't think Toguro Ani's class gives me the sort of endurance training that Karen-san gives us. I definitely feel more energetic after her classes."
"Oh Shizu," Paku rolled her eyes. "You think too good of everyone. Have you ever had one nasty thought enter your head? I swear that woman's just out to make us suffer. I bet she enjoys our tortured looks and expressions as well."
"Try looking at the bright side since this is compulsory anyway. By doing Taibo, we're 80% guaranteed to be able to fight off sexual predators and protect ourselves."
"What about the other 20% then?" Paku said sardonically.
Shizuku tapped her finger lightly on her chin in thought, her eyes looking up and she hummed a bit. "I guess we could probably out run those attackers because we'll be fitter than them. Think about it, after four blocks, they would certainly be puffing for dear life and we'd be fine, probably do another ten blocks if we really wanted. So you see Paku, I think we all get some benefits out of this aferall."
Pakunoda flicked her hair back in one dismissive gesture and grumbled some more. Some of the other male co-actors were now arriving and they were almost shouting at each other, each vying for the other's attention.
"I wonder what the hot topic for today is." Shizuku said, pushing up her glasses so they sat more firmly. She glanced at Paku beside her, whose eyes were narrowed with curiosity and very much resembled an alley cat on the prowl.
"HE KISSED A MAN?!" Ubo roared out in good humored laughter, the vibrations from his laugh could be felt by the actors around him. He playfully placed his massive hand on Gon's spiky and unruly hair. Gon glared at the huge man.
"Can you say it any louder?" he half snarled half hissed, but more people around him laughed. Even Killua wasn't holding back. "Are you sure we should be discussing this in the open, I mean, won't it be bad for Hunter's reputation?" he pleaded again in Killua's direction. Hisoka was, after all, one of his few friends that he could talk to on some matters. It didn't do well that everyone was discussing him with the same vindictive enthusiasm as they did with Darien.
Kuroro didn't bother hiding his huge grin, which was rare. A smile on Dancho's lips was as common as a spotted mouse who could memorize the first hundred and four decimals in pie. "Tell us how Hisoka reacted again Wing. More detail please."
"He had tears in his eyes, seriously." Wing too, had a fiercely wicked grin too. Although he presented himself as a somewhat neat, unthreatening and fragile man, he was in fact capable of many psychologically destructive acts. Preying on the humor and inflaming gossip just happened to be one of his specialties. "He said: It can't be true! Over and over again, then wailed some more."
"You mean all this, and in front of the Director?" Bashou asked.
"Yup! And Dad was *this* close to ripping Hisoka's heart out. It was so funny!" Killua squealed with delight. He held out a minimal distance between his thumb and forefinger for Bashou to see and the older man also burst out laughing.
"Oh, there's Paku and Shizu waiting already." Hanzo piped up. "Heya! We have a very humorous tale to tell. For the right price, I can give you a smile for the rest of the night, even if you have to do Taibo for the next two hours."
"I'll spare you my fist in your shiny bald head. Is that price enough?" Paku asked coolly.
Hanzo easily ignored the physical threat for his mood was too elated, even though the event occurred early in the morning. "It was only a figure of speech Paku. I would love to see you actually look amiable for once on Thursday Gym Nights! Menchi's parking her car, but she's got the whole story. Ask her when she arrives ok."
But a silence rapidly fell on the rowdy group as the people central to the gossip finally arrived. Illumi's eyes perked up with curiosity behind Hisoka when the latter casually greeted all the people. And everyone else saw a large pair of shy and inquisitive eyes slowly peek up from behind Hisoka's shoulder to blink and quietly study them.
"Ok guys, this is Illumi, the one I'm supposed to be looking after for the next two weeks. Say your hellos and lets get through another gym night ok? In the meantime, let me find..Ah! Toguro! Just who I was looking for!"
The tan, tall, muscular and confident man had just left his office after a day of dealing with mind numbing paper work and was about to go out to dinner when one of his clients called him by name. Only very few people did that - either those who held little or no disregard for their health, or those who were his good friends, and they were few. Sometimes, he wondered which category Hisoka fell into.
"Toguro, could you please set up a little program for Illumi here?"
Close up, Toguro was not only impressive, but also carried about him an intimidating aura which could almost frighten off most street thugs and hooligans by his mere presence alone. Up close and personal, you either trembled beneath his gaze (and almighty biceps and pecs) or you foolishly defied him, much to the objection of your health.
Illumi was naturally wary of the big man, and his slight step backwards could be described as 'cowering behind Hisoka'. Toguro on the other hand only glanced over him turned his attention back to Hisoka.
"I recommend that Illumi-dono go with the other ladies to Karen's Taibo and Aerobics session tonight. Perhaps she could fix something up afterwards. I mean, we do have very strict separation rules here, as you all well know."
Separation rules as in rigorously separating the men and the women to create a more friendly gym environment where women or men could go about training and not be harassed by the opposite sex. Other women also felt more comfortable when their instructors were women too.
'Not again,' Hisoka thought dully. 'How many times do I have to go through this routine? This is the.what? Sixth time today that I've had to explain: no, he's staying with me?' The magician gave a small sigh.
Everyone else tried to suppress giggles.
Illumi tried very hard not to look hurt.
"It's ok Hisoka. I'll see what Karen-san can do for me."
Hisoka whirled around, his face furious. "It's not that you little baka!" he couldn't help hissing and pouring his frustrations on poor Illumi whose little pout and meek gesture of defence only infuriated him even more. "If they found out *what* you are in that Taibo room, they'll rip you to shreds! There are some women in there who don't like men to see them in their tight and fitted clothes, and this causes quite violent reactions sometimes, do you understand?!"
Miraculously, Illumi was able suppress his emotions and he gave a cold nod after staring long and hard into Hisoka's harsh eyes. Almost monotonously, he replied: "I like the step machine and treadmill. I'll just work on those tonight. It's obvious that Toguro-san has places to go to, right?"
The co-owner of the Gym sheepishly nodded his head and some gave appreciative 'ahs'. He obviously had a date with Genkai tonight. Hisoka finally caught the drift.
"Oh..I see.well, um.I'll just look after Illumi tonight, you have a good time ok?" He wearily turned around at the stoic faced Illumi and gave an apologetic sigh. "Lets go get changed. I'll turn one of those treadmills on for you."
Only the first day of his suspension, and he was already loosing his grip on things, Hisoka thought depressingly. And it would probably just all end in tears - he just knew it.