CHAPTER 6
Two Weeks with the New Guy – Part III
Trying to show the New Guy around, but bogged down by misunderstandings.
7:00 am – Hisoka's apartment
Illumi groggily opened his eyes. He almost cursed out loud for his eyelids felt as heavy as lead and his muscles stiff and sore. He felt as if there was a great weight on top of him which restricted his breathing into low, shallow gasps. Reflexively, he groaned.
"You feeling ok?"
There was a voice, an oddly familiar and vexing voice carrying the memories of much pain and anguish. The voice was nearby, just above him to the right, but it had been too quick and fleeting for him to tell exactly where. He needed to focus his eyes and adjust to the surroundings.
The roof was a dirty beige in colour with large cracks in the paint and peeling in some other areas. The light was a conventional spotlight at the center with a filthy yellow ring gathered around it, specked with bits of black. However, the light wasn't on, yet the room was still visible. It had to be morning. And he was not in his own bed. Illumi painfully urged his head to turn towards the direction of the voice and felt himself looking in mild disbelief at Hisoka's tired and concerned face. What on earth was happening?
Hisoka had felt like a husband waiting for his wife in the labour room, pacing forward and back like a caged animal as he waited for the cry of a newborn baby. The person whom the Director had entrusted him with for two weeks was already 'down' (so to speak) after spending less than twenty four hours with him. Never mind the fact that they had almost come to blows over a shower cubicle, now Illumi had somehow managed to swig a spiked drink. He had to sneak Illumi into a hospital room with Faust when he discovered that he had no identification or details of Illumi on him and so could not register the young man at hospital. Thankfully, Faust, being the good old friend that he was, granted him a favour and helped him out on a strictly private basis. In short, the whole incident had been illegal, and even Faust didn't have the powers in the hospital to allow Illumi to stay there overnight. Raking a tired hand through his thick, straw blonde hair, the doctor recommended that as long as Illumi had a place to rest properly, it didn't necessarily have to be at the hospital.
So Hisoka bought him back to his own rented apartment and gave his guest his own bed whilst he spent the restless and worried night on his near broken couch. He had always meant to replace it with something new, but never had the time to go sofa hunting, but for those few dark hours, he continuously belated himself for putting off something this important. After two unsuccessful hours of trying to find some sleep on the sofa which threatened to put all the discs in his spine out of place, Hisoka gave up with a grunt and a sigh and fixed himself two extra strong cups of coffee. He migrated to his own messy bedroom and sat on the edge of his occupied bed, patiently waiting for his guest to awake. Perhaps he had become immune to the caffeine through constant drinking, but Hisoka managed to doze off right until morning until he was hastily awoken by some response at last from the man he was supposed to be looking after.
During his sleep, Hisoka must have fallen on top of Illumi, and he himself felt horrified at the ambiguous position he found himself in. Having pinned the other man down on his bed for most of the night, he immediately peeled himself off and checked to see if that latter was still ok.
"Where am I?" Illumi said in a voice laced with fatigue and small annoyance.
"My apartment, on the bed in my bedroom?"
Hisoka watched for a slow minute as the information sank into Illumi and the raven haired boy miserably frowned and looked at him again.
"Why?"
"There was something wrong with your drink last night and you had a…reaction to it. I didn't know where you lived and didn't really want to contact the Director at that hour (it's not like I had a death wish or anything) so bought you here instead." Hisoka stretched his hand to help Illumi tenderly brush the long strands of hair from his confused face hoping to soothe away the worries and bewilderment Illumi must have felt. One usually felt that way if there was a gaping hole of darkness in their memory, finding themselves at the Starlights Club and then the next moment, in a stranger's bedroom.
"Something was wrong?" his slender white fingers, rather cold and lifeless, clung onto Hisoka's warm ones out of instinct and reflex rather than anything else.
Hisoka patted Illumi's hand comfortingly. "Don't worry about that, the bartender is going to get to the bottom of the issue."
Illumi pouted slightly and looked around him again. "I was sleeping in your bed last night? Where did you sleep then?"
"On the couch." Hisoka automatically lied without a second thought. Perhaps in his concern, something gave him away because Illumi's large feline eyes narrowed with suspicion. His other pale hand, still under the covers, slowly crept to explore the small area of space beside him on the single bed and noted that it was freshly warm. The beast of panic and hysteria slowly began to stir inside him and urged him to take a quick peek beneath the greyish white sheets, just to make sure.
"Oh for gods sakes, I didn't do anything to you." Hisoka snapped, but bit his tongue before anything else harsh and unnecessary escaped. He forced himself to calm and thought of another lie. "Yes, I fell asleep next to you, but that was because the sofa was uncomfortable."
The relief was like a pressure off his chest when Illumi's suspicion immediately vanished. Illumi bit his bottom lip almost prettily and looked slightly guilty, knowing that Hisoka had a most discomforting night because of him. Now, he looked shy and timid and drew the covers right over his nose to escape Hisoka's momentary anger. He blinked his large coal black eyes innocently and in appreciation.
"You should have put me on the couch instead. I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference anyway." He said apologetically.
"You are the guest. I'm ok, the night wasn't that bad. Now," Hisoka stood up and stretched feeling never better with each successful falsity. "now that you are awake and had your stomach emptied last night, you must be in want of breakfast, right?"
Noting the nod of agreement, Hisoka continued. "All right. It's still early, so not many places will be open. However I do know of a place open at this hour, but it's a fair way's walk away from here. I'll be back in an hour with breakfast, so you just get some more sleep then."
Illumi stuck a few fingers out from under the covers and wiggled them, waving goodbye and Hisoka patted him once more on the head then turned to leave. Illumi heard the front door softly click shut and continued to study the rather messy surroundings. He could do something constructive within the hour that Hisoka was gone.
7:45 – Endless Parade
The word "trouble" rang on incessantly like emergency alarm bells in the minds of Kuroro, Ubogin and Shalnark. One could have said that events had turned out both fortunately and unfortunately. The fortunate thing was that Kuroro and Ubo both had a habit of meeting at the crack of dawn to make at least two laps around the block. They would usually bump into Sharlnark halfway. Afterwards, they would pass the first news stand to open in Anime City. The unfortunate event was the evil picture on the front page of the best selling newspaper broadcasting appalling gossip and images which shocked and horrified the three. Gossip and pictures featuring one of their co-workers. One who was already in big trouble and didn't need anymore.
"What can we do about this? Contact our lawyers and see if there is a case against this journalist and publication?" Shal jogged lightly to keep up with the fast power walk of Dancho and Ubo. Both of them hung troubled and worried scowls that told the world "piss-off-I've-got-more-important-things-to –think-about-so-don't-get-in-my-way". Shalnark however became irritated by the constant lack of response ever since they laid their eyes on the paper.
"So?!" he cried out aloud in near hysterical tones and agitation, careless to the fact that he was attracting attention from other early joggers. His two companions stopped to face him. "What are we going to do? There's nothing to be achieved by going and ask if this is true or not. That's not the point! We have to stop the publication of today's newspaper and make sure it doesn't sell!"
"If you're suggesting that the photo is doctored, then of course we can stop the publication." Kuroro turned to him with a coldly furious look in his eyes and moved on again. He continued to speak curtly. "However, since we've got no contacts in that particular news firm, we don't have inside information. The only way to confirm the truth and validity of the story is to ask that idiot himself. It is all we can do before the Director himself discovers and decides to fry his ass for good this time."
"Aye" Ubo boomed moodily beside Kuroro. "So lets save our breath to tell that idiot off instead of worrying what we can or can't do."
Shalnark silently acquiesced but continued to glare at the colour picture in his hand with a look of disdain and frustration. And a whole heap of despite for the photographer who made the snapshots.
The trio continued to walk at a breakneck pace down Endless Parade and block of apartments where Hisoka lived came into view in its ugly majestic glory. Although the building was situated in one of the most exclusive streets in Anime City, being on the outskirts of the town meant that it was somewhat 'shoddy', with dirtied walls, iron railings showing rust and peeling paint and a general lack of life to the whole décor. The few pots of plants that some inhabitants had left on their balconies were neglected, dry or wilted. It mirrored the rest of the supposed garden that might once have been as lovely as Eden, but due to neglect and vandalism reeked of death and decay. It was the kind of place which instantly came to your mind when one talked of triads and black societies and where they usually lived or gathered. According to stories, the landlady was as equally frightening, reminiscent in some ways of the Director himself.
Kuroro gave a cry of relief as he was the first to see Hisoka jauntily walk up the hill on Endless Parade with a white plastic bag stuffed with goods in each hand, whistling a merry tune apt and fit for a fresh and crisp morning. He paused and looked innocently quizzical as the three approached him.
"You are SOOOO dead." Ubo shook his head and hefted the newspaper right under Hisoka's nose.
Illumi set down the vacuum cleaner and heard his back groan with pleasure as he stood erect again. Hisoka's living room was now much cleaner. The magazines, some of which had already been bundled, had been shipped off to the large rubbish dump at the end of the corridor outside. Other magazines revealing less taste were hastily tied together and thrown under Hisoka's bed, where it rightfully belonged. However, much to his dismay, there was a whole giant mountain of dirty clothes which had already taken down to hiding beneath the bed, so not long after, the clothes washer doing a frenzied spin of at least a ton of soiled garments. Having cleared most of the bedroom, it was then Illumi noted that the floor was also littered with dirtied plates and cutlery, half eaten then casually discarded dinners and numerous other plastic cartons from microwave dinners. Sighing, he rummaged through the kitchen and found another garbage bag to tip the disposable plates away, then set the dishwasher to madly spray hot jets of detergent water at grime which looked harder than bricks and stuck to the plates stronger than superglue. With the floor finally cleared of obstacles, it was revealed that even without the plates, the magazines or the dirty clothes, it was just as dirty, and hence he found the vacuum cleaner and scoured all the rooms.
Glancing with a certain amount of pride at the rather satisfactory job – given the time frame of course – Illumi picked up a clean rag and took to polishing the mirror that Hisoka hung near the front door which served as a last check for the suitability of his appearance before he left his flat. Unfortunately however, the mirror was so dull and smudged with goodness knows what that it could barely be said to be doing its job properly. With a small amount of Windex and a soft cloth, he squirted the blue ammonia onto the surface and vigorously scrubbed.
His own reflection made him hesitate. Tinted black eyes were boring right back at him, like the windows on a limousine which could only look out but never in. They were eerily set on a painfully pale face, too lean or thin for any male's liking. His nose was slim and slender and his pinkish lips carried with them a perpetual pout. Atop his head lay the prized ebony mane, cascading down his curvy back down to his waist. It was the perfect image of a woman staring back at him, so vulnerable and fragile. How many years had it been enduring words such as 'fag' or 'homo' when he was merely walking down the streets to do shopping, or for yuppies in highly polished sports cars wolf whistling at him. It wasn't hard to alter one's image and fool the world. In fact, the world was very foolish, easily swayed by things material and external, never sparing time nor thought for what lay underneath. Or sometimes, people didn't give the world a chance to look in. He could easily cut his hair into a short, fashionable length and spend a few sessions in a solarium to get some colour back into his skin, and he could also change his choice of clothes. He could do anything he wanted, but it had been some time now since he wondered why he ever chose this mask of helplessness. Tracing his mind back down the winding and meandering, almost forgotten paths of memory lane however, was not the most pleasant way to pass time.
A perfectly manicured finger traced his evident jaw line, following the shapely oval heart shape and pointy chin, caught in brooding and reminiscing. Echoes of brutal verbal abuse were ringing through his mind with dull clarity. He heard his own soft whimpers and sobs, but also, he heard his maniacally triumphant laughter drowning out everything around him in his mind. Laughing down the ages, always laughing with such diabolical glee and joy. It was the magnificent exultation of knowing that no one knew who you really were and that you had schemes and motives hidden deeper than the darkest and foulest abyss on the ocean floor, or the farthest reaches of the universe where no light has ever reached. It was the conniving delight at the idea that all along, you had someone in the palm of your hand, feeding them lies, feeding them anger, driving them insane.
When his eyes came back into focus and gazed at his own image in the mirror again, there was such a bitter and twisted smile on his flawless face that it was almost unnatural. It was a smile which included all the shades of hate, despise, cruelty, mockery, arrogance and the bitterest triumph of all. He was the eldest child – the eldest son, and it was his duty to protect his mother and siblings from their so-called 'father'. But now that he was dead, Illumi never really got over the fact that the war was finally over, or rather, he knew nothing about life other than that horrendous struggle that occurred through his entire life but had ended nearly a decade ago. He may have lost many battles, with the innumerable scars down his back and front to prove it, but ultimate victory was his. The smile automatically widened at the thought. He was still alive and his 'father' was dead.
Dead.
But what now?
The mirror showed him the face of a very, very cruel man whose narrowed eyes alone could send spears of ice into the hearts of those who would gaze upon him now.
He wanted to burst out crying – he had always wanted to cry. He hated the look so very much. He took no pride in what he had become.
Placing his hands on the small wooden counter beneath the mirror to steady himself, he lowered to head to avoid gazing into his own terrible reflection and let out a trembling breath, feeling numerous shivers rack his body.
Saying goodbye to an old persona who had carried him through the thickest and toughest times was no different to abandoning an old friend for a new one, no matter how much you disliked him. It was such a dishonourable thing to do – but at the same time the world was irresistibly urging him to move on or perish. Everything was so different now. Happiness would soon be part of the equation in his life. What new identity did he have to fashion for himself? Why did he always have to make an image? Who was the real him? Who IS he?
"Illumi? What are you doing up? Are you all right?"
He had been so absorbed in his own turbulent mind of whirling thoughts and clashing voices that he didn't hear the door just to his right click open, nor was he aware of Hisoka rushing towards him, hastily throwing his shoes off to see why he was hunched over the coin bowl on the counter beneath the mirror. Illumi was so caught up in his thinking that he failed to see that too.
"I couldn't get back to sleep anyway, so I just helped you clean up a bit."
"Holy shit Hisoka! I can see your floor again!" Kuroro playfully exclaimed from behind the magician, exaggerating his astonishment of course. Ubo's deep booming laughter almost shook the walls.
"I thought this place was tiled! Not carpeted!" the great big man clutched his middle laughing. "And look!" he pointed to the small television. "I thought that was a small cupboard or rack the last time I was here. It turns out you have a tv!"
Shal took in a big breath. "And is it just me, or does this place actually have oxygen now or what? This place reeked of crap when I last set foot in here. Why…it's actually livable now!"
Great hoots of laughter continued whilst Hisoka dazedly stared at his own clean apartment. Illumi, affected by the contagious humor, laughed merrily with the group.
The magician looked at the four of them, finding joy and amusement at his expense and scowled.
"Now, where is the newspaper you were threatening me with just a moment ago? Grab a seat, make yourselves a cup of tea and let me see it. Just how am I going to die?"
Kuroro stepped into the now spacious living room and seated himself carefully on the near broken couch and placed the newspaper in front of him on the coffee table he never knew Hisoka had. They all gathered whilst Hisoka and Illumi both curiously leaned over to look.
"Hey – that's when we were eating at the restaurant yesterday after we left the studio." Illumi brightly pointed out to the picture that the cameraman had taken of Hisoka feeding him a piece of cake on his fork. There was a mildly contented and satisfied look on the clown's face and a demure and polite smile from Illumi with slightly downcast eyes as he chewed.
"The not so great part," Kuroro coughed "is actually the writing which also accompanies the picture. Would you like to have the honour to read the article aloud Hisoka?"
"Who is this lucky lady?"
Career actor and some-time model, now currently at Hunter Works, Hisoka has over the many years dominated the gossip columns with his "short-lived relationships" with numerous women, actors, singers and models alike. Angry boyfriends and other men whose women he plucked from right under their noses with his gregarious manner and devil's charms describe him as akin to a toad in that he hops from one lilly pad to the other, never pausing for longer than twelve seconds with each woman, let alone have any time to romance. But what we have here is truly astounding as our undercover agent has discovered Hisoka engaged in an intimate conversation with a ravishingly beautiful young lady at Gladis' Café, enjoying a fine piece of crème sponge between them. Later, both were down in a secluded area of the beach strolling on its warm and goldern sands, exclaiming in delight as the cool water lapped against their bare feet. Moments later, both were happily frolicking in the water, kicking up the cool ocean's water in a mock water fight…
Hisoka's voice trailed off and his voice was rimmed with disgust but the quaver in his voice indicated that he found the situation more amusing than he was incensed.
"We were frolicking in the water?" he managed to squeeze out before he threw himself fully back on his couch, exploding with laughter, his hands wildly flailing and beating at anything it could reach around him. Illumi likewise held up the newspaper to have a good read himself before another smile broadened on his face.
"I'm a ravishingly beautiful young lady!" he said with a strained voice. Everyone could tell he was trying very hard not to copy Hisoka's example, but tears were beginning to leak out of his eyes that he eventually joined the magician in another series of hoots and gasps of laughter.
Ubo resisted the urge to bang both of their heads together with his enormous strength and settled from roughly grabbing their front shirts and shaking them vigorously.
"Now look here! This is no laughing matter. Hisoka," Ubo turned his great unshaved head to the red head. "you have been filmed spoon feeding another man. The same man that the Director had you take care of, not take advantage of!" and then he turned to Illumi. "And you young man, you have been mistaken as a woman! Does this not offend you or embarrass you?"
Behind Ubo, both Kuroro and Shal nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Aww, Ubo, what can we do now? You know that The Insider is a gossip column and hardly anyone takes their stories as serious facts anyway."
The giant let go of Illumi's shirt so he could stare menacingly at Hisoka at a closer distance.
"The point is that you shouldn't have been….acting like this in the first place! What on earth possessed you to do this?"
On cue, Shal held up the newspaper, flipped it to another page and pointed to the picture in which Hisoka was carrying Illumi in that classic style the grooms carrying their brides towards the waiting limousine used. One arm supported Illumi's neck and the other underneath his knees. It was quite misleading.
Hisoka shrugged haplessly. "Illumi was kicking water at me but hit his toe on a rock hidden beneath the sands. In fact, his toe started bleeding, so I had to carry him out of the water."
"Why didn't you let him limp?" Kuroro threw his hands up in exasperation and took over Ubo's job to give the red head a good throttle.
Hisoka looked at the rest of his co-workers as if they had been struck down by a bout of stupidity. "He hit his toe hard against a hidden rock. We think the toe is probably fractured, and it was bleeding as well at the time. The Director told me to look after him, and you're asking me to let him limp for the next five hundred meters before we found a kiosk that sold bandages? Have you three gone crazy?"
Shal looked unconvinced. "Show us the stubbed toe." He challenged.
Hisoka looked to Illumi, who nodded slightly and took off his right slipper. He lifted up his foot for all to see that his big toe was indeed, swathed under layers and layers of bandages.
Kuroro rubbed his forehead from the pending headache and thought fast.
"Ok. It has been established that these photos were not doctored. However, the article only contains a half truth, and, for instance, failed to mention the fact that Illumi had injured himself – the reason for why he was carried…like that." He gestured in annoyance to Shal to fold up the offending newspaper.
"Now, since the story is indeed cleared, we need to think of something to make sure the article is disbelieved. I'm thinking about discussing the possibility of a press conference to make an open public statement from both of you with the Director. Is that ok with you Hisoka?"
The latter was still unfazed. "It says here that I was with a woman. Let the world think that – what would I care anyway?"
"Hisoka, have you thought far enough to wonder what would happen if they did realize that Illumi-san was a man?" Shal said incredulously.
Hisoka shrugged again. "I don't see the fuss. So I'm having fun with another man. What's the big deal?"
"I knew this was a waste of time. We're getting worked up when the person in deep shit still doesn't smell the stink. All right Hisoka. We got the warning to you. When the Director starts shouting at you through your mobile phone, don't say you weren't prepared. We've got to head off to the studios to wash up and get to our places. If you could," Kuroro now gazed coldly at both Hisoka and Illumi "please try to keep your hands off each other for the next two weeks and your activities unambiguous. If I see the newspaper tomorrow morning and find a picture of you having a candlelit dinner at the top of Elysian, I swear I will kill you first, then throw myself off the tallest building."
He gave them both a look of disappointment, grunted in annoyance and left without another word. Ubo and Shal took off after him without anything else to add, leaving the two on their couch, stunned. After a while, Hisoka unfroze.
"Hey Illu."
"Yes Hisoka?"
"Want to have a candlelit dinner at the top of Elysian tonight, the most exclusive building in town?"
8:00am – Studio 3, Hunter Works
"No, please! I can't take it anymore!" Gon groaned, twisting and writhing on the floor, his face muscles aching terribly from being over stretched.
…has the most irresponsible and flippant man in Anime City finally become enthralled by the raven haired enchantress? Who is she? How did they meet?
"Right here, and with a great, big, fat misunderstanding!" Wing howled finding it just as difficult to breathe, exactly like the other day when Hisoka began to complain about his shoes that he had to wear for a particular fight scene. The cramps in his stomach muscles were bordering on pain now, but he swore that this type of pain was never unwelcome.
"One moment, it's 'freaking pervert', the next, cuddling and caresses at the local park, and then they're fighting over something as nothing as a shower stall! Oh man – both of them need to get their head checked or something….ouch."
Master Wing fell off the chair he was sitting on and succumbed to yet another moment or two of sheer amusement which involved curling up into a tight ball, akin to fetal position, with a tear on the corner of his eyes.
"Oh no, Wing is down again. Can we get this man some help please?" Senritsu discarded the flute that she had been polishing and knelt over Wing, fanning her hands desperately back and forth. She found that the man had yet again lapsed into another bout of hyperventilation and could not be reached, except by an oxygen mask.
"Kurapika dear, run down to sick bay and fetch the nurse please?"
April shook her head for the sixth time this morning as she watched the blonde boy scuttle off. She was officially the main cameraman, and her job description did not entail her to look after the actors whilst the director was absent, nor was it her duty to make sure that they all took their positions so that the timetable could proceed on schedule. However, more and more frequently, she found herself doing these other odd jobs and tasks, especially separating the group who had a strong affinity towards each other and refused to be parted. Today, it was a scene with Kurapika, Senritsu, Bashou and Swuhala, yet a lot of irrelevant people to this scene were also present. Had it been Hanzo leading the gossip again, she would have personally man handled him and thrown him out the nearest window. She was that annoyed to have that much strength.
This morning, it had been quiet, klutzy Ponzu rushing in with Pokuru (they didn't even bother making excuses this time for arriving together at the crack of dawn) who clamoured into Hunter Works. With great panting breaths and trembling hands, they distributed the most startling, not to mention humorous, news yet again since the Darien affair at the beginning of the week. Bashou must have made a call to all the other co-workers who were off duty today, even Leorio, and within half an hour, studio was buzzing alive like a hive of bees with news and gossip.
Sighing more in defeat than frustration, April leaned over Toby's shoulder. In his lap he had yet another copy of The Insider and an expression of intense interest in his face. Without having to read the words, the brightly coloured pictures splashed across the page was enough to make April groan with fatigue and slap the palm of her hand against her forehead.
"These pictures are real." The younger man said with hints of awe. He pulled the newspaper almost right up against his nose to study the lines and colours.
The photos looked more than genuine – there was no mistake April thought miserably to herself. It was not some cheap tactic to gain publicity. The Insider was not so stupid enough to defame someone like Hisoka. No, this was full and living proof that the magician did indeed have a lovely stroll down the beach and park with the man Director Silva had introduced him to, and no, by the looks of it, Hisoka was not knocked out by drugs. And according to some quiet whisperings, there had apparently been a fight or scuffle down at Toguro's Gym last night, none of which was very pretty.
April frowned menacingly and cleared her head free of gossip. She looked like a disappointed mother or teacher with the rowdy group of *coughchildrencough* actors and fiercely clapped her hands numerous times.
"All right ladies and gentlemen! Wing is NOT going to die. Just drag him over there to that corner, and could the rest of you who are NOT supposed to be here please get out of the picture. This is not a request – this is a command. We are exactly ten minutes behind schedule now, and guess who wants an early Friday?"
People grumbled a bit but generally agreed that Fridays were short and they could easily discuss every trappings and happenings during lunch time at Gladis' Café or some other restaurant nearby. Leorio smiled nastily and emphatically nodded. Apparently, he had missed some fireworks last night when he skipped gym to have a few drinks with his other friends who had come in from out of town, so in fact, he had missed out on seeing who this Illumi person was. Truth be told, he would have mistaken him to be a woman at first, but still, after knowing that Illumi was a man, Hisoka was really testing the limits of his sexual orientation.
"Where is the Director by the way?" he spoke up as he shuffled off towards the exit. "He's never late."
8:10am – Level 10, Hunter Works
"Anata! Who have you used to show our son around? He's – "
"Kikyou, KIKYOU! Please, just calm down. The Insider is an obnoxious gossip column that no one takes seriously anyway."
"I DON'T CARE! FACT IS, ILLUMI – "
"Yes, yes, I know, he doesn't swing that way. So this is all just coincidence and bad journalism, BAD JOURNALISM. Please, just calm down. I'm late for work and all the actors are already in position, I have to be down there right now."
"ANATA! DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME – !"
Silva looked in horror at the finger which had 'accidentally' pressed the hang up button and shuddered at the horrible consequences of what he had just done. Placing the receiver back on the machine, he took in another deep breath and strode out of the office, locking the massive gold gilded doors behind him. The pictures in the newspaper seemed surreal. Hisoka had been crying and bemoaning the fact that Illumi was not a woman at the studio yesterday morning, so why were they caught in all those compromising positions?
Silva entered the elevator going down to level 3. His mind churned forward furiously. Hisoka was known to be a deviant – an unknown factor, an actor whose personality and mood swings were sometimes so unreliable you wondered if god was pressing his buttons on whim or something. It could very well be possible that just because Illumi was a man didn't necessarily mean that Hisoka could not be attracted to him. Silva heard himself groan with disbelief. Yes, Hisoka seemed to be a person entirely capable of being a bisexual if the other party was attractive enough.
He had been surprised the moment Kikyou's eldest son walked through the door. He was expecting something more unlike his own image because of the way Kikyou had been describing her children to him all these years. She depicted to him a boy so weak and brittle than any more pressure and he would crack. He heard about a young man who was isolated in his own neighbourhood and could not stand up to his abusive 'father'. But when that same young man stepped foot into the Zoldick mansion, his icy aura alone stilled the living air around them and silenced the birds in the trees. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Killua struck to the spot with fright by whatever he saw in those depthless eyes. Perhaps it had been an empty and terrible void carefully concealed but was struggling to be free, or the mask which concealed it was gradually slipping under the pressures of time. Whatever he saw, it was not so much as nasty, but foreboding, unsettling, something which could not be treated lightly. For a brief moment, Silva felt like he was looking at a much younger version of himself, standing in the door way to his home, capable of being as ruthless and deadly as need be.
With such an impassive nature, he would have thought that Hisoka would be impervious and strong enough to handle him for the next two weeks. Hisoka himself was a wild card – a man who liked to live on the fine balance between life and its extremities. His own unsteady personality would be a good match against something as coldly unshakable as the monster in Illumi. How wrong he was – the Illumi he met at the studio yesterday morning was an indignant and outraged young man whose dangerous and gleaming edge had entirely vanished, smothered by a pretty pout, a stain of pink across the bridge of his noes and misty eyes welling up with tears. The icy chill around him had been softened by the perfume he wore, and his movements, filled with grace and elegance gave the general impression that he was a fragile indoor plant. The sheer deception alone was so perfect that Silva was actually frightened. Scared. That sort of façade took a lifetime to work on and establish. The question was god knows what and why did Illumi have such skill? It was a wolf in sheep's skin, camouflaged so perfectly that even the other sheep around him didn't realize a predator stalked their minds and twisted their thoughts. And even the infallible, devious, cunning and daring Hisoka had fallen prey.
The elevator dinged at level 3 and the feared and adored Director of Hunter Works alighted, his steps light and fleeting, lacking in firmness and confidence. Pushing aside the studio doors, he saw that most of his crew had gathered that morning, even though the majority of them were supposed to be enjoying their day off. His sharp eyes caught a newspaper sitting on a chair by the door and in one swift movement, he picked it up and studied the contents.
His first reaction would have been to groan at Hisoka's miserable defeat, but his self control was beyond that now. He merely grunted, almost inaudibly so that it sounded more like an explosive exhalation, and gestured for his own son Killua and his friends Gon and Zuuchi to come.
"Yes dad?" Killua asked. The smirk he had hung on his devilishly handsome face all day still had not worn off.
"You three haven't got anything planned for today have you?"
"No sir." Gon diligently replied in the respectful manner that Mito had drilled into him. "We didn't have anything planned today except for finding something fun to do."
Silva frowned slightly. "Well, I'm afraid this task that I'm going to set for you is not exactly fun. Take Ponzu and Menchi with you – and get to Hisoka's place NOW. Mission – "
"Keep an eye on Hisoka?" Killua finished off.
The Director looked at the three boys with a grave expression on his face. "Yes." He said steadily. "For the meantime, I don't want the press to get anymore snapshots of them alone and together. Stay as a group, at least a trio. And observe them to see if any of this reporting….is true or not. I need to know."
"Oh" Zuuchi quipped up "Ubo and Shal had already gone and interrogated Hisoka-san this morning. Apparently, in this picture, Illumi-san had hit his toe on some rock so that it was bleeding and Hisoka-san had to carry him. This photo is not doctored, but Hisoka certainly was not, and I quote, carrying his new lover in the most romantic fashion to a picturesque restaurant facing the beautiful view of the rolling waves and cooing seagulls."
Killua almost saw his dad choke. "This is hideous reporting indeed. I'll wait two days to see if it blows over. If not, I might have to call a press conference to clarify things up." He glanced sideways at Killua. "Aunty Kikyou is very displeased with me. She thinks that I've picked the worst sort of man to accompany her son for the next fortnight." When things were really the other way around, he grimly thought. The three boys nodded in understanding and set about to do fulfill their mission. All the other actors, under April's stern gaze and herding, finally made their way to their correct places and filming got under way, twenty minutes behind schedule.
9:00am – Hisoka's apartment, Endless Parade.
Setting aside their homemade breakfast, Hisoka rummaged through his tattered bookcase and finally found what he was looking for. Illumi sat on the edge of the couch, his back straight as an arrow, blowing away the steam and sipping on some bitter Chinese tea.
"Ah, this is it." Hisoka coughed a bit at the dust and shook the map out in front of him. When the dust finally settled, he laid it out on the coffee table and described Anime City to the other man. He pointed to center of the map, dominated by a large, towering skyscraper 200 stories high.
"This," the magician said with wistful relish "is known as Elysian. It's the most glamorous building in the whole of Anime City. All the major events and social functions that are worthy of the front page of The Times takes place here. It is also within the very walls of this building that the extremely prestigious annual awards show is held – floor 150 to be exact. The Elysian also holds Tartarus – the most amazing and wild nightclub here in all the city. Entrance is so exclusive that if a woman so much as has a hair out of place on her head, she won't be admitted. Legato Bluesummers, Machi's older brother, is of course, a VIP to this most deliciously wicked place. Floors 40 to 140 however, are known as the Asphodel Levels, but they're nothing dull to say the least. It provides hotel rooms to visitors and actors alike who are visiting from overseas, or important people in positions of power making their snapshots with famous actors like us – to make themselves better of course."
Illumi dutifully nodded.
"On the top two levels are the rotating restaurants – yes, they actually rotate to give the diner an exquisite 360 degree view of the city skyline – a most spectacular sight at night with all the lights lit up in a fabulous array of colours and glamour. Bookings for dinner have to be made before 5pm each day, and their buffets alone cost up to $200 a head. Worth every penny I say."
Illumi's eyes widened and he sucked in his breath. "That's quite a lot for one meal." He quietly commented, unable to pry his eyes off the central building dominating the map.
Hisoka couldn't help but let out a delighted chuckle. "Worth every cent Illu, every cent. What do you say? I make the phone call now and we have dinner there tonight – my treat. Pass me the receiver could you?"
The latter shook his head emphatically. "No – it's too expensive, and Kuroro-san expressly told us not to do that."
Hisoka leaned over Illumi and snatched the phone himself. His fingers started working at the number before the pale boy snatched the machine from his hand and hid the phone behind his back.
"No Hisoka! You musn't."
"Stop that Illumi. We're adults – we can do whatever we want."
"No Hisoka! Stop it! I don't want to do this!" The volume of their voices dramatically rose.
"If you don't say anything and I don't say anything, no one will ever know. Stop struggling damnit!"
Outside, Killua, Gon, Menchi and Ponzu could hear whinnies of defiance and growls of aggressiveness. There was the distinctive sound of clothes ripping followed by sharp, shrill cry. Both Killua and Menchi looked at each other with horror blazing like hellfire in their frightened eyes, and without a second thought, kicked down the door with a loud and impressive bang and barged into Hisoka's apartment.
"What in blazes are you doing Hisoka?!" Menchi screamed at the top of her lungs before she saw what they were doing, just to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. Ponzu and the rest of the trio balked at the scene before them.
Hisoka lay almost atop of Illumi on the couch, breathing harshly, his hair and attire a general mess. Beneath him, Illumi lay red faced and likewise panting, struggling at certain intervals in an attempt to shake Hisoka off. But both of the magician's arms were wrapped around the slender and delicate young man, and he had somehow wormed himself between Illumi's exposed thighs during the skirmish.
The two on the couch likewise gawked at the rather sudden and abrupt entrance of the Hunter actors.
"This is not what it looks like." The both said automatically.
"Urgh! I can't believe this! You've made front page already – what are you trying to do? Make us imagine you both in a black tux and white veil?" Menchi growled menacingly. She rolled up her sleeves and stalked over to the entangled pair and with one mighty pull, hauled the stunned clown off the young man and threw Hisoka to another seat. The rest of them all widened their eyes in silent appreciation.
It took five minutes for Hisoka to explain what had really happened, and Illumi grumpily retrieved the phone from behind his back, warily placing it back on its receiver. His hair was a wild mess, almost a riot, and one of his sleeves was ripped at the seam along the shoulder. Illumi looked sullenly at the tear and vainly tried to make the limp sleeve stay up, unsuccessful in his endeavour. It was then that Hisoka tried to make another mad dash for the phone, only to be predicted and intercepted by Illumi who pounced on him midway. The impact sent both of their bodies colliding onto the coffee table, breaking it under their weight like twigs under a ton or rock. The scuffle continued, their tangled bodies rolling spasmodically on the carpeted living room floor, Hisoka sometimes crushing Illumi under his weight, the latter mysteriously able to flip back up.
This went on for a good five minutes until it was surprisingly Illumi who prevailed, sitting on Hisoka's stomach and pinning his arms to the ground with unnatural strength that the red head could not break free.
"It's no use struggling against my combined weight and the forces of gravity." Illumi uncharacteristically harshly informed the defeated man…er…between his thighs. "Swear not to touch the phone or…or…" Illumi looked around and spotted one fat little roll of white and black just near his feet.
"Or I'll draw a tortoise on your face with this permanent marker!" He waved the pen menacingly in front of Hisoka's face, making sure that the latter did see the word 'permanent' on it.
"You wouldn't!" Hisoka exclaimed with real fear. But the very determined look in Illumi's face told him he would. Furthermore, he had pulled the pen out of its cap already and was edging the black tip closer and closer to his blemish-free cheek. He gulped down his defeat with as much dignity that remained to him and feebly nodded.
"All right – I won't make the booking for tonight. I won't touch the phone for the purposes of making a booking. There, satisfied?"
The severity in Illumi's expression rapidly faded away and he slowly beamed him a happy smile and hopped off his belly, pulling Hisoka back onto his feet in good nature. They all surveyed the broken coffee table, recently re-discovered, and the bits of sawdust and splinters on their clothes and hair. Laughing, both began to groom each other, Hisoka paying particular attention to the sharp shreds of wood in Illumi's fine mane gasping in exaggeration at the particularly larger fragments he found.
"All righty kids, I don't think you're quite ready for this sappy stuff yet." Menchi firmly held Killua and Gon by their shoulders and ushered them out the front door, both boys struggling under her grip. Ponzu steered Zuuchi behind her, but she threw back one last look at the embroiled pair, now giggling softly and patting the dust and wood chips off each other.
"Nuh-uh! You too Ponzu! That stuff is contagious. Do not avert your eyes and keep them forward!" Menchi barked, then slammed the door shut. They stood outside in the corridor, looking at each other with degrees of confusion and haplessness. Menchi however, had her arms crossed and tapped her foot with impatience on the concrete ground.
"Idiots!" she blasted furiously. "One minute they're fighting over the phone and the next, cooing like lovebirds in a pear tree on a warm summer's day." She gave the door a hard kick. "They're so engrossed in their own happy little world that they've completely forgotten that we're here!"
"They're just being playful." Ponzu weakly suggested, trying to force out a laughter and some humor in the situation. Menchi glared at her.
"So damn playful" she drawled sardonically "that they really do need to get their heads checked. They haven't even figured out whether they can stand and tolerate each other or not. We all heard what happened down at the gym last night – you two boys were in there to see it. Now to me, that didn't sound like 'play' – it really sounded like two mad dogs ready to rip each other's throats out. Less than twelve hours later, we burst into their home to find them squirming against each other on the couch." She threw her hands up in total helplessness and frustration. "This mission was a failure to begin with. I suggest we abort now before we are exposed to the actions of these psychos lest we become infected."
The pink haired cook from Hunter Works angrily spun on her heels and walked towards the nearest exit, giving the garbage bins yet another savage kick. They all despondently watched her stalk off and wondered what they should do.
"Well, Hisoka and Illumi-san's relationship is sort of chaotic. It's sort of moved beyond the stage that they don't know we exist anymore." Gon neutrally observed, but defeat evidently tainted his voice. In silent acquiescence, they all began to get a move on, knowing that theirs was a hopeless cause. Ponzu was biting her lip and looking worried. Killua asked her not to worry about his father – he would explain everything when they returned.
"It's not that," the blue haired girl hesitantly began. She peered around her quickly on Endless Parade just to make sure no one else would overhear. "Menchi-san has always had a crush on Hisoka-san. There are just the small things she does or the quick glances that she gives him during the few shots that they do together."
"Oh?" the three boys perked up with invigorated curiosity. Ponzu knew that she had spoken too much already, but it wasn't like the Director's own son would allow her to remain silent. Rolling her eyes, she continued:
"I think she's jealous – I mean, she never gets to do anything which will give her the remotest chance of being caught in an ambiguous position with Hisoka."
"And this new guy comes along and they practically do everything under the sun to mislead anyone who doesn't know that Illumi is a man that they are in fact lovers having a happy time frolicking around town."
Ponzu nodded gravely at Killua's words and sighed deeply. "And the thing which pisses Menchi off most is that there is a strong relationship developing between Hisoka and Illumi-san already. And they haven't even been together for 48 hours, yet Illumi-san's already spent the night at Hisoka's place! And we've all been working with Hisoka for…what, seven months already? Menchi has barely spoken to Hisoka for more than two minutes at one go, let alone spend some quality time with him, and there they were, dusting each other off in front of our very eyes without a single care in the world. I think someone really needs to remind Hisoka that Illumi-san is a man. That's where the attraction lies – Illumi-san is very…pretty." She added the last bit in with touches of self-consciousness, and her hand immediately went to bob the tips of her blue hair.
Gon and Zuuchi agreed with Ponzu, but Killua silently dissented. The reason why Hisoka and Illumi clicked was because they both shared so much in common that they just didn't realize it. But Killua kept this thought to himself of course.
The footsteps of his co-workers gradually faded outside his door, and both men let out a sigh of relief.
"There, that's got rid of them." The magician commented, walking over to check that his door was still functioning. Illumi went to the bathroom and retrieved a comb, working it through his hair immediately.
"Sorry about your table Hisoka." He noted, but it didn't sound like an apology at all. Instead, both were rather amused and hung grins on their faces.
"Well, it was worth it. We don't want the unofficial Brat Prince, Devil in Disguise, Boy with Highly Immature and Intelligent Mind with Equally Smart-ass Comments to Match to be following us for the rest of the day. I'd feel like I was babysitting, and going out on an unofficial date with the other two girls who showed up. They must have been working under Director's orders."
"He must have seen today's paper." Illumi said solemnly.
Hisoka's grin broadened. "Yup." His voice was brimming with cheerfulness.
"You sound awfully happy to have been mistaken, pray tell, why?"
The red head shrugged. "No apparent reason. I just take slight pleasures in pissing the right people off."
"Director Silva Zoldick included?"
"Director Silva Zoldick especially."
Illumi immediately laughed and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. But he gently lowered them when he saw Hisoka sharing the same glee and felt himself smiling sweetly in return. After a while, Hisoka spoke again.
"All right, we better get started. It'll take a whole day just to show you the four main roads of the City. We should go to the bowling alley on Paradise Grove – the people from Reikai Motion Pictures generally hang around there. Reikai Motion Pictures," the magician carelessly picked up any jacket which happened to be lying around and shuffled Illumi out of the front door and closing it behind him, "is our only ally. We both share the same script writer – Yoshiro Togashi – and so, there are some things in common. That, and also because Mr. Sayko, a partner at RMP, is a good 'friend' of the Director."
"Associate." Illumi frowned slightly, correcting his friend. Hisoka took it all in a calm and easy manner.
"Yes, yes. The Director, our living ice block, bless his non-existent heart or soul, doesn't care to have any friends. But that's beside the point. Fact is, Hunter Works takes up two buildings whilst RMP takes up the other two. We are all pretty close."
Illumi studied the map, looking down towards the southeast of the city and noted a strange circular clearing with four rectangles. That must have been what Hisoka was referring to. He got the magician's attention by pulling at the man's sleeve and pointed it out on the map just to be certain.
"Correct. That's where Hunter Works is. By proximity alone, we are the closest to Reikai Motion Pictures, and that's partly because we share a lot of scenes and sets. If you look further east on the map, you'll notice Serenity Pictures."
Illumi gave a firm nod.
"Stay away from that place. The girls there are so bitchy that even the hardened, spitting alley cats scamper to make way. That's also where the vile, spineless slug – "
"Darien von Drosgen."
"Fabulous! You're catching onto convention and local traditions already! Kuroro's not so perfect little pussy loving brother also happens to work there. Steer clear from that place. If you ever find yourself trapped in its horrifyingly pink and white walls, they'll do to you what they did to Fish Eyes."
"Who?"
"Fish Eyes – once a perfectly respectable man known as Dougy Cameron, now so uncertain of his manhood it's frightening. All throughout the Sailormoon Super S series, they gave him a baggy jumpsuit to wear with a low v neck cut and made him act as a woman half the time. The majority of fangirls out there wouldn't have known that he was a man until the episode where they gratefully allowed him to take off his shirt to reveal his flat chest and say that he was boy."
Illumi looked positively frightened. "But wouldn't the fans have spotted that he was a man by his voice?"
His companion looked at him dubiously. "Would I have known that you were a man by your voice? Heck no, and certainly not him. But he's been so ostracized from Anime City that he generally slums in his own apartment and broods. That's what working at Serenity Pictures will do to a man." Hisoka shuddered visibly even though the air was starting to warm up about them. "And don't get me started on the three Sailor Starlights as well. I thought my costume was bad, but imagine having to prance around in a skimpy leather number?"
"They run a successful nightclub though," Illumi objected. "so they're pretty confident about their image."
Hisoka shook his head, almost pitying his friend. "Poor, innocent and naïve little Illu. The three Starlights only run the place – they're administrators only, although they'd like everyone to think otherwise. No, no, Mistress 9 is the actual owner, though few people know and it's totally fine by her – one of the few decent women to have worked at Serenity Pictures."
"The pretty lady with the very long hair?"
"Yup, the very same one. She's the brains behind the whole business and came up with the idea of a club with the interior that resembled a five pointed star. Her husband is as equally impressive. One of my fewer friends who actually found a steady life. Enough of the reminiscing, you see the four roads converging onto the Elysian from north, east, south and west? They are the four main roads that form the bare bones of Anime City – Endless Parade, Fame Court, Fortune's Park and Glamour Isle. As you see, Endless Parade runs down South – all the way into suburbia, Fame Court stretches out East towards the beaches, Fortune's Park up North and Glamour Isle to the West. Another famous road is Lover's Lane – and I don't think I need to tell you what happens there."
Hisoka winked at Illumi – the latter trying to hide his blush behind the map. He determinedly tried to steer the topic away.
"My kaa-san has recently opened a clothes store. She said it was on Glamour Isle – I can see how that is an appropriate place indeed. We might want to drop in there after lunch."
"Anything that might give us an appetite to feast on the buffet at Elysian tonight, no?" Hisoka smirked, patting his stomach and licking his lips at the thought already. Illumi frowned.
"I was serious when I said that we shouldn't do it."
"And I was equally serious when I said we should. And I also happen to have a mobile phone on my persons. Don't mind me whilst I make the booking!" Hisoka laughed, running madly away from Illumi with the cell phone in his hand.
"Come back here!" the raven-haired boy immediately gave chase, sprinting down one of Anime City's four main roads chasing after an insanely giggling man with dark red hair.
1:30pm TGIs, Paradise Grove
Neon looked uncomfortably about her at the dull wall of bricks and unappealing decorations consisting mainly of frames of old newspapers showing happy faces smiling back at her. The small black tv on her far left was showing the tennis match between Justine Hennine and Anna Kournikova, the latter with her fine bronzed legs and goldern blonde hair having her face wiped on the floor with no contest. Other people were buzzing quietly, laughing, sharing jokes, swapping playful punches. It was Friday Lunch, and her sister had not shown up. Gon and Killua had been avoiding her ever since they arrived inside the restaurant and Ponzu was caught up in chattering with Shizuku, Machi and Pakunoda before they were even shown to their seats. Perhaps she could join them.
"What are you talking about 'she stormed off'? She must have said something!" Machi exclaimed, then quickly remembered to keep her voice low and tried to look inconspicuous by chewing on the straw of her drink. Mmmm…lemon-lime bitter was nice.
"Oh, she said quite a bit before 'storming off' all right – but after she said her peace, she just turned around and left. More like fled if you see it my way."
"Lets get this straight first. You guys were sent, by the Director's orders, to keep Hisoka and Illumi company so that the media couldn't get anymore gratuitous images of them together. You then arrived at Hisoka's apartment and heard what?"
"Grunting, petite and delicate whinnying, sounds of bodies pushing against each other, panting, deep breathing and clothes tearing." Ponzu reported as truthfully as possible to Machi without exaggerating. In a sense, she liked this attention she was receiving. As one of the more minor characters at Hunter Works, the more prominent female actors rarely spoke to her, let alone sit and listen to her talk with rapt attention. A small voice told her that using Menchi's suffering as a means of receiving attention and popularity was a small and demeaning thing to do, dishonourable to say the least, but even Paku was sitting just opposite her, listening to her with rapt attention. The Paku who got to wear a flashy black jacket with generous amounts of cleavage and an equally flashy skirt revealing generous amounts of thigh!
Shizuku looked worried. "That sounds like…you know…"
"Two people about to have sex?" Paku seductively suggested, raising her eyebrows a number of times after a series of winks.
Neon, sitting just a seat away from Paku's turned back, felt her eyes widen in horror and heat flushing her pretty cheeks. Her hands wrung the white restaurant napkin provided in her lap with such intensity that had it been alive, it would have screamed in agony. Kurapika saw her positively struck with astonishment and went over to her.
"Neon-chan, why are you sitting alone?"
"I…I," she began to stammer at the handsome blonde's question, then forced herself to speak fluently. "I am waiting for my sister to arrive."
Kurapika frowned and looked slightly perturbed. He tsked a bit and looked around to see if he could find any help. Noting that everyone was busy dining or engaged in conversation, he bowed down slightly and lowered his voice by two fractions, indicating that his words were for Neon alone.
"I hear that Menchi is having a tantrum of some sort right now. Unfortunately, I don't have all the details. But even if she doesn't turn up, you shouldn't be sitting by yourself." He gestured for Neon to stand up and led her to the group of gossiping girls.
"Ladies," he began brightly, "care to join Neon-chan into your group for lunch today? I think we are all quite aware that Menchi might not be joining us this afternoon."
"Oh, but of course." Shizuku hurriedly clambered closer to Pakunoda so that there was an opening for Neon between herself and Ponzu. The young girl gratefully nodded and gave Kurapika's hand on her shoulder a small squeeze of thanks.
"Can I also get anymore drinks for you ladies?" Kurapika beamed. Everyone on the table smiled and shook their hands, thanking him for the offer.
All the female actors from Hunter Works sat in an awkward silence for some moments before Neon spoke up, with a sense of urgency in her voice.
"What is this about one-chan throwing a tantrum? You guys all seem to know."
Paku nodded gravely. "We do child, we do." She took a sip from her spicy margarita and continued. "Your sister was part of the Director's mission, issued this morning, to keep Hisoka and Illumi-san company. She saw some pretty nasty things that she didn't really want to see, but because she saw it, she couldn't help getting angry."
Neon looked down at the table, concentrating hard. She had read all the papers that morning, especially the ones with Hisoka carrying Illumi-san across the beach and reading all the captions and articles that came along with the photos. However, everyone at Hunter Works had been in the business long enough not to trust a single word The Insider would have to say, and Menchi was definitely no fool. She looked up again, her face set with determination.
"I know one-chan likes Hisoka, but if you look at the pictures in the newspaper closely, you see that there is a bit of red on Illumi-san's feet. Hisoka was only carrying him because he was obviously injured. She couldn't have run out on us over something this insignificant."
Machi patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. "It's not just the newspapers, girl" she shook her head with some pity. "It's what Menchi and Ponzu and the three kids saw and heard when they decided to give Hisoka an unannounced visit this morning. Ponzu now is kindly recounting everything down to the finest detail and how they were allowed to abort the mission without facing the wrath of the Director."
"Please continue." Neon squeaked, dreading what she was going to hear. Before Ponzu could proceed, the larger men's table beside theirs erupted with loud, almost violent, laughter, heavy fists beating onto the table and the sharp and cutting noise of cutlery banging rattling on white porcelain plates. Neon felt her hands shaking so badly that even her arm muscles ached from all the tension. Looking into the spitefully amused face of Leorio or the incredulous faces of the Genei Ryodan men, so far so that Kuroro's jaw almost hit the ground with disbelief really urged Neon not to listen to Ponzu's story otherwise she would regret it. Swuhala had tears streaming down his cheeks and Bashou gasped like a fish on dry land. Wing had adopted a portable oxygen tank and had the clear plastic mask firmly pressed to his face as he tried to cope with the story. Not long after, he leNt the mask to Bashou so that the bigger man could regulate his breathing more calmly.
"I only thought that those type of situations only occurred in novels or movies!" Nobu choked, his poor lungs wheezing and aching already. "What I would have given to see the priceless looks on all you people's faces when Killua and Menchi kicked the door down. I can't take this…I just can't handle this sort of news anymore." The samurai leaned back deeply onto his seat and clutched his belly, trying to persuade his respiratory organs to function again.
So Ponzu rapidly told them the rest of all that happened, the wrestling and sitting on top of each other to the happy giggling afterwards. The women were stunned, simply too stunned to have a reaction. But Neon began to understand why her sister had stormed off just like that – whether it was justified or not was another story.
"Insanity. Sheer, simple, stupid insanity." Shizuku was finally able to mutter. "Lets forget it. Menchi was right – lets not think about it and enjoy our lunch. Then, we all go shopping to forget al the unpleasantness! I'll bet that's exactly what our Gourmet Hunter is doing right now. "
"Oh guys!" Machi called out to the rowdier table. "Is karaoke still on tonight?"
"Uh-huh!" Hanzo called out. "Everyone in or not?"
Grunts and nods of agreement came rolling in and the bald ninja looked pleased. Friday nights were always good to
look forward to.
Author's notes:
I must thank you all for the most encouraging and constructive reviews so far. It inspires me greatly and gives a lot of incentive to continue writing. Untitled is still currently being worked on - things are about to wrap up over there so I can concentrate on this one with my full attention.
*whew* I'm starting to like this story, and after 6 chapters, it's still at the tip of the iceberg. I hope I've left enough tantalizing hints for you guys to keep hanging on. Until the next chapter, cheerio!