The undecipherable plans of an enigmatic man
The rest of Saturday school continued and finished without much chaos or trauma for the child actors. After Karuto's raucous (although Gon preferred the term 'infamous') entrance, other teachers finally dared to step into the dreaded infernos of the classroom and finished the day a full hour late. The elder teenage actors were gathered in the café just across the street from the school, sipping cups of coffee and dining on toasted croissants or heavy slices of cheesecake as they wondered why their schooling was being delayed.
Kaéry would have liked to stay and entertain Karuto, if not for pressing and urgent business required at his office. He scowled at Talen's small and mocking grin of pity, revealing sharp and pointy canines.
"So Shura, it's just you and me this afternoon. Got any ideas about what we can do?" the quiet boy turned to his new friend.
The elder and bigger boy shrugged. "Do you mean you've run out of people to pick on? How about the elder kids – especially those nasty brats from Hokage village. I've always hated the looks of them."
"You mean Recca and his ilk?" Xelan raised a delicate eyebrow in thought.
"And the bunch of pansies from Side 7 as well."
"Hmm….pansies, yes, I couldn't come up with a better term to describe Heero the spandex wearer and his other plastic friends with equally plastic hair." At this point, Xelan grimaced even more. "There's Yahiko again. Gees, why doesn't he just give up?"
Shura also frowned, but he wasn't as annoyed. "You want me to beat him up or something?"
"No, no. Nothing of that sort. Come on, we've got more constructive things to do – like doing research on Kay's new object of affection."
Karuto, on Milluki's orders, was going to spend the rest of the day with Killua and Gon. It would be a good opportunity to use them and meet new people, establish new contacts and broaden her horizons a bit more. The more people saw her and knew her name in Anime City, the greater her chances of attracting a director and a role. But truth be told, her stark and attention seeking entrance at Saturday school was not planned. Illumi was supposed to see her off this morning, but he didn't come home last night and wasn't in his room in the morning. She certainly picked the right dress however. Mother would most definitely be pleased to know that she had attracted Prince Kaéry's attention AND had a date pending already. All on the first day. Mother would literally whoop with joy.
"Yahiko, go home. You've already embarrassed yourself enough today."
Yahiko's cheeks were flustered red with anger and did not take the dismissal well. His vindictive bitterness currently knew no bounds and backing away from the confrontation did not even occur to him. He blocked Killua's path and breached his personal space, so close to the other boy that they were almost nose to nose. Flickering fires of hate was spluttering in his eyes.
"You are scum and worse than scum," he whispered with deathly coldness "and I certainly don't think I could ever be embarrassed by motherless bastard!"
The silence became potentially charged between them and static crackled dryly in the air causing the fine hairs on everyone's arms to waver indecisively. Even the older boys and girls passing through the front gates of Saturday school came to a standstill to observe in mild fascination.
Gon, who was standing beside Killua, couldn't give a damn if his jaw was hung wide open and off its hinges at such an insult. He was going to stand there and gape in astonishment at the depths that Yahiko from Mejin Dynasty would sink to, the extent he would destroy his reputation and the extremely high potential of offending the heir to Hunter Works, just so he could save face. Had it been directed at him, he guessed that his vision would have been wiped out, replaced by white hot rage and anger. Which explained his amazement right now at Killua's extremely cool and unperturbed composure. There was only so much ice in you before fiery wrath took over – Gon decided that some people, like himself, had lower melting points than others, and Killua must have scored as high as silicon.
"Yahiko," Killua finally spoke up when he was sure his voice was steady. He would later find out from his brother just how much he looked and sounded like his own dear father at that moment. "I think you are insane. Truly. Step away from me so you don't give people the wrong ideas about us, and kindly keep your disgusting Oedipus infatuation in your sickly and sorry mind. I have better things to do, with friends you apparently don't have. Good bye."
"Damn," Shura whispered to Xelan, not daring to disturb the sweet tenderness of victory in the air even as Killua and his troupe sauntered away, "I swear that kid comes up with the best comebacks."
The quiet boy with the waist length purple hair solemnly nodded in agreement, like everyone else, also intently studying Killua's back. Except he didn't let people notice his interest – it would be unbecoming if they found out the confident and arrogant Xelan had been impressed. It was acceptable for Shura to continue to ramble in excitement around him, making him look all the more calmer, but it never hurt not to put someone down on the list of people you watched out for in the future - especially people with potential.
"All right Shura, lets grab our long delayed lunch first, and the first thing we do afterwards is hack into some files in the right places and find information that Kay might find useful."
Shura was busying setting down his backpack, unzipping it and letting Pug gracefully hop out of the bag in a pitter patter of small feet. He wasn't looking at Xelan when he nodded, his attraction still fiercely drawn by the dog, but he seemed to have heard.
"Sounds good to me, but just a side question – why? Does Kaéry make you do errands for him all the time?"
"It's not an errand." Xelan said icily, clearly offended by the suggestion. "Whoever hangs around Kay will inevitably hang around me…and you. I want to know exactly who I'm dealing with, at all times. You never know about people's hidden and ulterior motives unless you have information about them and can guess at the sources which drive and fuel them. The ability to know and predict another person's thinking will leave them as defenceless bugs in the palm of your hand, to squish and destroy as you wish!" and Xelan held up a small, milky white open palm and scrunched his fingers forcefully into a fist so hard that you could hear several joints popping.
"Gees Xelan, judging by the way you talk, you think half the world is out to get you."
The boy rolled his eyes. "Half the world is out to take advantage of you."
"That's just paranoia."
"And it runs deep in our family – you should try it too Shura, especially since we all have so many interests to protect. Rather be safe than sorry right?"
Shura gave that some thought as he trailed after Xelloss' son, then gave an emphatic nod.
Thursday
Illumi was officially declared missing on Tuesday. His mobile phone could not be contacted as it was always switched off, and by all accounts, no one had seen him since Friday night when he joined the Ex Club at an Elysian Karaoke night. Silva and Kikyou kept it under wraps so that neither the press nor the law enforcers stepped in, but it worried Kikyou even more, and if she worried, Silva suffered on the other end.
"This is just so not like him! He never disappears without a trace, no note, no call, no letter, NOTHING!" Kikyou sobbed, burying her face into her hands.
"I've been spreading agents all over the city – but they've got nothing to report. Perhaps he's skipped the town and gone off for a break." Silva sat down beside her on the couch and soothingly rubbed her back. It seemed to only agitate her further.
"FROM WHAT?! He hasn't started work yet and helping me out at Fantasia isn't the most stressful job."
"I assume it's the pressure from the media…and perhaps the other co-workers at Hunter Works about that certain chain of incidents last week."
Kikyou moaned out loud and threw her arms around Silva's neck, sobbing softly against his ear.
"I'm so sorry anata. I thought things would work out for him, hoped that the transition and change would be easy. But he seems to have found a way to stuff things up so badly that he could publish a 'how to' book on it too. Illumi seemed so enthusiastic at first when I told him that we were moving to Anime City – he was being so helpful with all the packing and moving and setting up Fantasia here." She loosened her stranglehold around his neck and snuggled into a more comfortable position.
"It was all gong so well, I could tell that Illumi was looking forward to make new friends here."
"Shhh…there, there Kikky. Illumi's a grown man – we shouldn't treat him like a child."
But Kikyou after some moments reluctantly broke from the embrace slightly and withdrew so that she could look directly into Silva's eyes. She looked miserable and her eyes showed so much burden and weariness. He caressed her cheek with one hand and she leaned into his assuring open palm but sighed again.
"There are some things I really should tell you, it's just…"
"I'm an open and understanding person Kikky. Feel free to speak."
"Of course you're not Silva," she scoffed, still sullen "lets be honest with ourselves. I have little to no patience, too ambitious for my own good and overwhelmingly dominant. People think you are a block of ice with no emotions and ten times more deadly than the shark in Jaws. If I can't solve these delicate family problems, what inkling do you have about a solution?"
He pulled her back into his fold again, a frown on his features.
"Illumi's our son Kikky. We're family – so we stick together through thick and thin. Family is the strongest tie there is, so whatever problems he has, we all be helpful and supportive and deal with it."
"You don't want to deal with Illumi." She whispered.
"Why not?"
"Because even I am afraid to meet him – the real Illumi, my own son who I don't even want to know. He'll frighten you Silva; his gaze will chill your bones, your ears will bleed if you hear his laughter and your mind will be soiled and corrupted if you ever listen to his words…it's…a terrifying experience."
"You're exaggerating things dear," he brushed stray strands of hair from her face, hopping them neatly behind her ears. "things can't be as bad as you make them out to be."
There was a look of veiled horror in her eyes when she held her head up again to look at him. For a fraction of a second, with the fear he smelt on her, he was ready to believe her words.
"Illumi drove the man who he thought was his father insane and laughed as he did it. It was only afterwards that I found out that he'd been playing a sick, twisted little game with his so-called father, a game, he said, that had gone on for as long as he could remember – a scheme, a plot to drive someone to the abyss of insanity from psychological torture." She forced herself to swallow the sobs and continue, but her shivering intensified as the memory sent chills down her spine.
"He said he loved every moment of it, driving his father up the wall, denying him so completely when his abhorrent lust was raging in his veins, and as my ex was gasping on the floor, suffering from a fatal heart attack and writhing in pain and agony, Illumi stood above him and was laughing. Laughing, he said, at such a completely beautiful and triumphant victory. He asked me to join in and laugh as he did. I felt nauseous for days."
"Bad people deserve everything they get." Silva said ominously.
"Yes, my ex was a disgusting piece of slime and deserved to die by all rights but the person who dealt death did not do so out of sympathy and compassion for the people my ex hurt. He did it out of cruelty. I'm so sorry that Illumi turned out this way Silva."
The Director and President of Hunter Works cleared his throat to indicate that the topic was over. "It
doesn't matter Kikky. Lets just find him first and then deal with the
problems as they arise, ok?"
Killua was sulking during lunch break. He rarely spoke whilst Shalnark rambled on with the usual daily smatterings of jokes and a read aloud of the hottest gossip pages, and even when Kurapika offered to treat him to a chocolate milkshake, he still looked away. The lunch group was small today, and his troubles were painfully obvious.
"All right, I give up. What is it this time?" Menchi threw her hands in the air. She shot Shal a glare to silence him from reading the gossip pages and everyone put down their cutlery.
Killua sighed again. "Karuto-chan has been staying over at my house for the past few days. Her brothers aren't at home to look after her, and dad seems to be negotiating some complex deal with aunt Kikyou – they're always out, till late at night. Things get rather…nasty…when Karuto is upset."
"Oh my god," Leorio exclaimed in sarcasm. "he's complaining about company! Cheer up kid – I bet that your house is never this lively."
The young boy grimaced a bit. He looked around at the people sitting with him for lunch: Leorio, Kurapika, Menchi, Shalnark and Senritsu. Odd gathering he must say, but the others were eager to scout for news about an upcoming competitor against the Elysian Hotel complex, situated right in the heart of Anime City, who were going to build an equally tall sky scrapper and cram in as many shopping stores and food places as legally possible.
He lowered his voice a fraction more, leaning into the centre to share a secret.
"Illumi's been missing since the Karaoke night. Dad's getting real angry because it must be affecting his business with Fantasia."
"Missing?" Shal lifted an eyebrow. He quickly flipped through his magazines until he found the right page. "Here, it says in this article:
Hisoka and new love gone to ground – the raven haired enchantress has been conspicuously off the scene in the recent days, with womanizing actor Hisoka (currently contracted to Hunter Works) frequently seen socializing with his co-workers.
I thought that Illumi-san was just trying to keep out of the spotlight for the next week or so."
"Yeah – except no one can reach him. His mobile phone's dead; he's not at his own home; his secretary says he hasn't turned up for work or taken any of the calls. Get this too – his bank account hasn't been touched and it doesn't look like he's made any credit card transactions since Friday night. No one's sighted him for days – Karuto's getting cranky – I'm on the receiving end."
"Hisoka's going to be in even more trouble then – wasn't he supposed to be chaperoning Illumi for the next fortnight?"
"Wipe that smirk off your face Leorio," Menchi hissed, not bothering to hide the dislike she had for the man sitting opposite her. "We shouldn't be held accountable for a psychopath with homicidal tendencies. I'd personally be glad that we never see the back of him ever again."
"If it were only that simple – remember how I hacked into Hunter Works database only last week and found Illumi-san's profile in there? He's going to be a member of Hunter x Hunter, though what role I'm still unsure about. But it says enough – he's important to the Director, and we might all be responsible if President Silva decides to blame us for Illumi-san's disappearance." Shal frowned. "You are right Killua, this is something to be troubled about."
"Good – I like to spread my miseries."
"So, do the police have any leads?"
"No Kurapika, dad and aunty Kikyou have decided not to contact the police and keep things under wraps. Both have probably decided that it would be bad publicity anyway, so we're relying solely on private links and extensions around the city. Personally, I thought my dad had one of the best networks, but his agents have come up with nothing. Illumi-san either hides from us very well, or he's left the town. As Shal said, we're the ones who're most likely to be blamed for this whole mess. Maybe we shouldn't have goaded Hisoka into the confrontation that day."
"Lets go find the other actors." Senritsu gathered her belongings and pulled out her wallet to pay for the meal. "they need to know, and the more people searching, the greater chance we have of locating Illumi-san. I'm sure we can trust them to keep things secret."
"Hisoka'd just open another can of beer if he hears that Illumi is gone." Killua said dejectedly, rising out of his chair with exaggerated despair.
"Not if he finds out that the Director will be displeased with him the
most." Leorio continued to chuckle as they departed the café to
find their other fellow actors.
Kaéry was strolling down Glamour Isle wondering what in blazes he was doing, running errands for this girl he had barely met. Karuto looked more than grumpy when they met on Tuesday night for dinner with Xelan and Shura. He supposed that he was only curious, and Karuto seemed convinced that something had happened to her brother.
Well, another problem that was slowly unraveling before his eyes.
The case had been simple, especially if you had been Kaéry. He was sure that even Xelan would have worked things out straight away. All that he needed now was proof to back up his theory.
He stopped in front of a gleaming set of marble steps, almost twenty feet wide, leading up to gold gilded rotating glass doors and high class materialism oozing from the cold mists of the air conditioner swirling at his feet. His father's building – all thirty levels, his.
Did he really need to bother his dad about this business? It probably wasn't such a good idea to push his demand for attention to far. After all, attention seeking from busy parents was an art and there were fine lines and delicate pressure points that had to be sparingly pressed, forcing you to come up with other creative alternatives. All part of the challenge and fun. He sighed and set on the steps, off in one corner, and opened his shoulder bag to review the contents of his day's work.
DNA reports from private labs, commonly used by celebrities to confirm the identity of their child's father. He flicked through the documents. One was the report from the analysis of Illumi-san's hair, provided by his sister. It seemed a novel idea at first, and perhaps slightly exciting – this whole business of detective work. You could never solve a case these days without DNA, so he asked for a sample. Next set of documents were the analysis of some blood he'd found in a bathroom – Elysian Hotel, fifth floor to be exact. Killua and Gon had made a report to hotel security on Saturday morning, 12 am, about an incident which must have taken place. From their accounts, mirrors were cracked, the metallic cylindrical waste basket was violently dented, droplets of blood were splattered all over the wash basins – these were definite signs that a struggle occurred. Coincidentally, by Yomi's accounts (information carefully extracted by Shura on Xelan's careful coaching), the last he saw of Illumi was when he excused himself to go to the bathroom. So he decided to take a look to see if Gon's discovery on Saturday morning was connected. By the time he arrived at Elysian on Tuesday, the washroom was, as expected, spotless clean and nothing left to suggest that anything had ever happened. But he moved towards the golden doorknob, particularly the underside – the hardest place to clean – and struck jackpot. Smears of crimson remained. He took a swab and sent it to the labs with the strand of hair. The results were that there was a 99.8% chance that the blood belonged to the owner of the hair. This means that Illumi was most likely to have been assaulted in the bathroom.
Deductive reasoning next compelled him to ask 'who' assaulted Illumi. Hotel security would definitely not allow him to access their security tapes. He refused to stamp his feet in frustration – those tapes would have lessened his workload, but a challenge was always fun. So he didn't have the co-operation of the Hotel people, nor were the police going to disclose any information to him. That meant, as any normal citizen was entitled to do, he could go around and ask questions from people there that night.
He had his chauffeur drop him off at the new Galaxy Institute and under the pretence of seeking autographs he found another child actor around his age, perhaps two or three years older, but certainly didn't look it. Daisuke was about the same height as he was, with moussy brown hair propped up in a short, high ponytail and a cat like smirk. He had a lot to talk about, especially his encounter with the Ex Club. Kay knew he was exaggerating half the time, sprinkling embellishments here and there, but he was talking about Friday night, which was extremely helpful.
"There was a lot of laughing at their table," he rambled on, digging into an ice-cream sundae that they ordered outside McDonalds. "Of course, they kinda interrupted Simone's singing, but everyone knows she can't sing. Then Rogina, you've got to meet her – she's like this iron woman with amazing muscles – went over to this guy called…Abel? You know, fine blue hair, a sneer that got stuck on his face when the wind changed?"
"Ah yes – Abel from Graude Foundation. Did you ever see him in the St. Seiya movie as the Sun God? Let me assure you, the real Abel is twice as arrogant as the god himself."
Daisuke giggled. Kay was a fascinating boy who had his way with words that sounded…what was that term they always used….cynical! That's it.
"Yeah, so Rogina was all non fussed when Abel told her to go away. She gripped him, by the front of his expensive CK shirt, then lifted him this far from the ground." Daisuke dropped his spoon and held out a good feet and a half between his hands, and a broadening grin on his face.
"Have you got any idea how big her hands are? Or how strong she must be? I bet she can crack three walnuts in one hand, without raising sweat either! By the time she let go and threw him back on the couch, his shirt was scrunched up and mangled beyond repair. And he sat there spluttering and gasping for breath whilst the rest of the club just laughed."
"No, they were probably cheering her on." Kaéry calmly informed him and forced himself to a sip of the vile substance that McDonalds tried to pass off as coke. He delicately reached for one of Daisuke's chips and nibbled on the end, immediately feeling violated by the sheer volumes of oil in the junk.
"One of them gave her his number afterwards when it was all over – Bunchuu I think. He was all charming and polite to us all, but just underneath, I felt that he was…dangerous, can't be trusted, the type who never means what they say. I think he meant for us to see that side of him as well, just to keep us on our toes. Needless to say, all the men had broke into cold sweat and Rogina just stiffly nodded at him and told him to scram."
"Bunchuu doesn't have much of a personality. What character he has can be neatly summarized as 'meanie'. He's blonde, got blue eyes, goes to gym regularly enough and spends a fortune on his hairstyle. That's all enough really to give you a fanatical following of girl fans."
"I'll say," Daisuke rolled his eyes, clearly not a fan of pretty boys. "because he was probably so obsessed with his image, along with Abel, that they left for the bathroom to fix themselves up during Mistress' song. I wouldn't have left even if my bowels were going to burst – that woman is such an amazing goddess when she opens her mouth to sing. And so two big men left during her performance to brush up on their hair and clothes. Gees, I thought it was only women who are so pedantic about their image. I wouldn't be surprised if they were caught bitching and gossiping in the men's toilets. God spare us all."
Both laughed out aloud as Daisuke mock crossed himself. Kaéry's interest had perked up straight away. According to Shura's account of the table's story that night, Illumi left the Karaoke room not long after reconciling with his high school friend Rogina. Then, Mistress took to the stage to sing. And during that time Abel and Bunchuu had also left, possibly to go the bathroom. Men going to the bathroom in twos? That was totally unheard of – something must be wrong.
"Abel and Bunchuu are notoriously known for drinking like a fish. I wouldn't be surprised if they had already consumed six pots of beer by then."
"Drinking like a fish – ha! I gotta remember that one."
"Look Daisuke. It was nice talking to you, but I've got to get going. Appointments, meetings, you know the deal." He shrugged into his black jacket and started to check that everything was in his bag.
"Nice meeting you too Kaéry, and thanks for the lunch. Will I be seeing you around?"
"Of course." He lied straight through his teeth and even managed to look sincere. "Enjoy your meal."
He was so excited by the new discovery that he almost ran from the food restaurant to find Abel and squeeze and extract the information on him by a delicious process of bullying, threats and bribes. But as he continued to walk down the streets deep in thought, he realized that he didn't need to go and confront either adults. The answer was most likely that they did beat up Illumi, and prodding them about their motives would certainly corrode his father's standing and relationship with them in the group. Bad idea.
He decided to go to ask his dad about the possible motives instead – why distinguished men like Bunchuu and Abel would sink as low as to do the dirty work themselves. He'd been pondering for an hour or two and still came up with nothing plausible, frustrating as it was to admit, so in defeat, he found himself strolling down Glamour Isle towards his father's workplace.
"So damn close to solving the whole thing, and I just need the stupid motive. Think! Why would you want to beat someone up!?" He growled aloud to himself. The vibration of his cell phone alerted him to an incoming call.
"Yes?" he said irritably.
"Kay, you're starting to annoy me – you've been sitting outside my office building for the past hour. If you want to set something alight – do it now and spare me the anxiety and stress. Don't just sit there and do nothing, my nerves are about to break down."
Kaéry turned around and smiled into the black security camera scanning the steps leading down to the street, keeping track of the people entering and leaving the massive building.
"Sorry dad, but I was deciding whether to annoy you with a question or not."
"I'm annoyed already. So shoot – what's the question?"
"Why would Bunchuu and Abel beat up Illumi-san? Aside from the fact that they are cowards and can't fight fair and are mean and nasty?"
"Ah yes…I suspected why they left so quietly during Mistress' song. I mean, no one leaves or moves when Mistress sings, not unless they want to wait until they're in heaven just to hear an angel sing again. But you've confirmed my suspicions quite a bit there Kay. Now you want to know why."
"Illumi hasn't been in town long enough to tread on any toes – not enough anyway to have Bunchuu and Abel their honoured selves to set down and break some bones."
"Oh? You really think that Illumi hasn't left an impression on this town yet? How about I indulge you in this piece of gossip then."
And over the phone, Karasu recounted to his son what was almost an unbelievable and fantastic story about the many he saw in the newspapers. Kaéry was astonished, amazed by the total contradictions from the facts that he had managed to scavenge around the city for the past few days. He heard the story of a psychotic man with murderous and violent capabilities. He dug into his bag again as he continued to listen to the smooth narration over the phone and stared intently at the pictures taken by undercover agents and journalists. Silken black hair, almost as long as Xelan's, large feline eyes brimming with delicate vulnerability and a curvy, hour glass figure that most women would die for. Was this the same ruthlessly determined businessman that Karasu had been introduced to on Friday night? And was this the self same man who was muttering some vile chant in a guttural language whilst he tried to strangle the life out of Hisoka? The puzzle surfaced as a frown and marred Kaéry's delicate features.
"…personally," Karasu continued on "I wouldn't bet on Abel of Bunchuu doing something for a reason. Hell, I'd bet my entire life savings that half the things they do they can't think of a reason for. The only possible motive in this whole affair is – "
"Retribution, fear, and the sense of security that comes along with the assertion of power."
Karasu blanched – his son's voice could be so detached and cold that he almost held the phone away from his ear lest it become frostbitten and falls off.
"Kay, why are you suddenly inquiring about all this? You've never involved yourself with petty gossip before, and I happen to like it that way."
"It's nothing father, a new friend of mine is Illumi's sister. I was bored anyway so I decided to help her. Thanks for the tips dad, I've got to think and ponder on them now."
Without waiting for a reply, Kaéry snapped his phone shut, switched it off and carelessly dumped it into his shoulder bag. He remained seated on the last step, biting the insides of his cheek with narrowed eyes unfocused whilst his mind madly raced ahead.
"We always strike out at what we fear, what we are afraid of, what we don't understand" his analysis began. "A common reassertion of confidence is to test the new and unfamiliar subject – with the preferable result being the reinforcement of your current standing – that you are stronger, superior."
Kaéry visibly scowled. Now came the hard part.
"But in what ways was the newcomer frightening? What had he done to instill the fear of god into Bunchuu and Abel that they, respectable and men of complete control over their emotions, could resort to such base actions as beating someone up in the bathroom? This is where the Fantasia incident was relevant – it was proof that Illumi was an unascertainable character. Compounded with the wild rumors that he was Hisoka's new love, a gentle creature, charming and beautiful, frolicking on the beach, the whole thing just didn't fit. If someone stepped out and claimed that Illumi had an evil twin, he would have been inclined to believe it. But before you jump to such preposterous and extravagant reasoning, THINK! The questions to ask are the HOW and the WHY. How does someone exhibit such dramatically contrasting personalities, then ask Why they'd go to all the trouble of confusing the hell out of everyone.
The How is always the hardest part to answer, his uncle frequently used to said. How can a doe eyed young man who is easily mistaken for a woman, known to have been reduced into hysterical sobbing over a shower cubicle, suddenly turn around and fix his pale, frail hands around someone's windpipe and almost succeed in crushing it? Then only hours later reappear as a no nonsense, take no crap bachelor in an elegant suit and determination so sharp that you could cut someone with it?
Schizophrenia? Split personality?
No – the shifts in character seemed too…
Kaéry didn't realize just how terrible his expression was – the snarl, his frown and eyes behind violent contact lenses burning fiercely with anger to ward off a tidal wave of fear that would pour endless buckets of shivers down his spine. He needed to shout and scream, rave and kick, do…something to get rid of the horrid feeling inside him that the conclusion of his analysis had brought. A rotten answer, soiled and tainted, and he felt like screaming until his throat was sore. His red lips were trembling and he couldn't do anything to stop it, for all the control that he thought he had, and naked determination alone would not prevent his unsteady shaking hands. He pressed them tightly into his lap and swallowed the lump in his throat, determined to finish the trail of thought. He bit his lip so hard that a trail of blood trickled down his chin.
Abel and Bunchuu felt what I'm feeling right now on Friday night, they must have.
The How and the Why were answered so beautifully simply that he choked for breath.
He needed his uncle here. He couldn't ever deal with this alone.
Alone?
"Jesus Kay, what's happened?" he faintly heard the swivel of the glass rotating doors, the hurried steps down the marble stairs and the concerned voice of his father. Karasu spun his son around to face him seeing a look on his young features that was rare and uncommon – a look of sheer horror and stupor. He hastily reached forward to wipe away the blood with his sleeve and drew his son in a warm embrace. Kaéry barely moved, allowing himself to be prodded by his father, and even in his father's arms he could barely respond to the warmth, his body unyielding to any comforts the world had to offer him. He didn't realize that he was biting the lapel of Karasu's suit to prevent himself from crying and sobbing like another twelve year old kid.
Karasu ran his long fingers through his son's fine raven hair as one might to a distressed cat and pressed his lips to those cold and pallid cheecks. "Kay, you've got to tell me what's wrong – has someone hurt you? Tell me who it is, and I'll rip him to shreds. Kay, can you hear me?"
"No dad, I think I'm frightened by a person who I think might exist."
"You think might exist? What do you mean?"
Kaéry smiled, the previous chill from the fear gradually thawing
under the knowledge that he had a truly loving father.
"Thanks for the concern dad, but I'll deal with this."
Karasu stared at him long and hard, gazing into artificially violet eyes brimming with intelligence. He saw his own reflection of concern, and how it had paled his complexion and tightened the muscles around his mouth in a grim line.
"How about coming in for a cup of hot chocolate to get your blood running? Your fingertips are as cold as ice."
"It's ok dad, but I'm going to find Xe. I'll be back home for dinner tonight."
He disentangled himself from Karasu's worrying fingers and stepped further back, beaming a bright smile to indicate that he was fine. Only when his dad had disappeared back inside the building did Kaéry even dare to assess his own reactions.
Now that I've had a chance to calm down, I have an urge to track down Illumi, hunt him, and make him suffer as I did just then. Is this how you felt Abel? Being the obnoxiously egotistical coward that you are, you'd suffer the same reactions as a twelve year old child. But now that I understand the How and the Why, I'm in charge of the game – it's Illumi who has to respond to me, not the other way around, as you felt compelled to do. What a simple, cardboard character you are Abel, and Bunchuu – your lack of nerve simply amazes me, almost beyond comprehension.
Yes, Kaéry concluded whistling a merry tune, in the end, the game will always be mine. I'll enjoy the challenge Illumi-san, and I'm sure that show will be spectacular.
Kaéry, unofficial Brat Prince, son of successful entrepreneurs
Karasu and Lola, and himself an accomplished businessman, gave a small
chuckle as he headed towards Fame Court.
The bladed fan on the peeling ceiling was lazily doing circles, ragged circles struggling now and then as if out of breath. It used to be white, now a pale yellow and dotted with speck of brown rust. The window was open, and whatever small breeze could not shift the heavy red curtains, layered with dust and grime. They hadn't been washed for a long time. The small table beneath the window was strewn with a messy array of magazines, clippings and pictures of glamorous stars and actors with thick black texta markings all over them – particularly their faces. In one close up shot of Darien von Drosgen, the typical model shot with the unfocused, misty eyed look, a thick black text added massive eyebags beneath those seductive eyes (which had been rendered into snake like slits), nose hair was unashamedly sticking out of a fine elegant nose and fangs jutted out from the lips. Smooth, perfect skin was pockmarked with freckles, and unruly sideburns not seen since the days of Elvis were added to the sides of his face.
Along the walls were a myriad of other pictures of beautiful girls – mainly from Serenity pictures, and all of them had small holes punctured in them. But behind the pictures, you could tell that the wall paper was also peeling, coming apart. They used to be white with art deco stripes to give a modern, stylistic look, but with neglect and abandonment, it was now a tea brown colour and silverfish had eaten away at edges. The floorboards were uncarpeted, revealing rotting planks of wood and a rust nail protruding here and there to catch bare feet unawares. From several prominent cracks, you could see the pipe networks twisting away and if all was silent and quiet, you could hear the waste gushing through the metal tubes.
The blanket covering him would not even qualify for prison standards, so grimy and greasy that he didn't want to think about it lest it give him rashes. The pillow which supported his head stank of alcohol covering up for another smell that made him sick. He tried not to think about that either, nor the fleas that might also be sharing his bed.
Illumi continued to watch the spluttering of the fan and told himself not to complain. At least there was a relatively stable roof above his head. For all he knew, he could have been bleeding to death on the streets, his dead body nonchalantly kicked into the gutters by the heartless people of the city.
He wished that there was a mirror somewhere in the room, so he could see how badly his face had been screwed up. He didn't even dare to unbutton his shirt and see just how purple, blue and yellow his bruises had become. His ribs hurt like hell – at least three of them must be fractured. When he stumbled out of the Elysian, numbed by pain and in a daze, he distinctly remembered a fountain of blood gushing out of his nose that wouldn't stop. He just hoped that it wouldn't settle crooked.
Mustering all his strength, one hand crawled out from the covers to dab cautiously at one blackened right eye. Two days ago it had been swollen that he couldn't even open it. The swelling had finally subsided, leaving a mightily sore area, doubtlessly purple, his right eye blood shot.
He felt and looked like crap. He knew it.
The door painfully creaked open. He couldn't see the door from his position, but knew that only one person would willingly live in a place like this. Hisoka had told him briefly, in passing, about a man who had become an outcast in the actor's community for a particular role that he took up.
Fish Eyes, or a man who used to be known as "Dougy Cameron."
Dougy was a painfully think and unkempt man. If he walked down the streets today, nobody would be able to recognize him, a villain whose antics and cross dressing that should have earned him godlike status ended up being shamed. Now, he chose to confine himself to exile and lived in squalor.
His wraithlike form came into Illumi's view. The light shone on his greasy and matted blue hair – hair that was once wavy and full of volume, now just another mattered, defeated clump harshly tied in a messy pony tail.
"I've been meaning to ask you something." Illumi said, watching Dougy ignore him as he set down his bag of magazines and begin to flip through them, absorbing the life that was denied to him.
"Why did you help me?"
Dougy crossed his legs gracefully on a shabby stool and flicked a few more pages of Cleo before lifting weary eyes onto his ruined face. He gave a small shrug underneath a Ralph shirt, three seasons out of date. He turned back to his messy table until he found what he was looking for. Illumi internally winced when he lifted out the (now) infamous Insider from a particular day last week.
"You don't go messing with people as well connected as Hisoka." Dougy's voice was low and scratched, harsh and unpleasant on the ears. Whatever happened to the charming and devious lilting tenor that he originally possessed?
"By well connected, I mean to a certain select group of highly fashionable and successful men in Anime City whose influence isn't in the film industry alone."
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
Dougy's chuckle sounded like a pot of rusty nails inside a tin can being vigorously shaken about.
"You know very well what I'm talking about young man. You can't make a fool out of someone like Hisoka and expect to get away with it. Us actors have something called Code Duello – and it can be both fair and unfair. You watch your step in the future, and don't tell anyone that I pulled you from the gutters."
He abruptly turned back to his work, his scissors working slowly and surely at more pictures, mainly to replace the maimed ones on his wall. Illumi stared intently at the man's back and felt the stirrings of something repulsively familiar inside his mind. A silent chuckle more venomous than any snake, more vile and corrupted than a serial pedophile worked its way in his mind, extending its rotten slivers and tendrils to control his thoughts.
"I'm going to reward you for your help." Illumi spoke with a voice that did not sound like his own. Fish Eyes kept on working the pair of scissors and selected a scrap book from a desk drawer along with some glue.
"My mother owns Fantasia, and I help design half the clothes. I am going to redo your image and turn your years hibernation into a life of glamour, camera flashes, red carpets and beauties clinging to your arm at functions and events. It all begins with your image – and I am the master of images."
"And why would you go to all that trouble Illumi-san? Do you show such gratitude to each person who hands out their pity to you? Don't make me laugh."
"I can do it Dougy. In a materialistic and fickle world as Anime City, you can become a fashion symbol, overnight, just like that."
Cameron laughed aloud, putting down his work tools and turned to face the broken man on his bed.
"I'm a pariah Illumi-san. No one wants to see me, no one in the right mind would want to be seen with me just in case my shame and degradation will rub off onto them. Some people will cross the street if they see me walking up the road from the opposite direction. Your position is doubtful and precarious as it is – are you trying to commit social suicide?"
It was Illumi's turn to smile and Doug had to fight from feeling sick from the fright.
"I know that there is someone, quite influential, who would never ostracize me, no matter who or what I become. So I can never tumble to your depths, rest assured. I can however, raise you up to the clouds so that even Abel has to look you in the eye and speak to you as another equal. How would you like that?"
The man seated on the rickety stool studied Illumi hard, with the concentration and pain of a Russian roulette player who was deciding whether to pick up the gun or not.
"What's in it for you?" he demanded harshly, knowing that irresistible offers were akin to signing contracts with the devil. Illumi's smile broadened.
"Just that you remember who it was that helped you regain your feet. When I put you on the pedestal and elevate you to the status of admired and adored, you will be one of my good friends. I need contacts and connections if I'm going to survive in this city Dougy, and I've managed to royally screw things up at Hunter Works. So I do what a pragmatic man has to do – seek new and unexplored territory, or in your case, reviving old territories."
Doug rolled his eyes. "And just what do you think I could do for you once I'm your official pretty boy on a fashion magazine cover?"
"You've been out of the business for too long Doug. Let me refresh your memory." Illumi painstakingly pulled himself into an upright position. The pain in this ribs were like sharp needles plunging into his sides and his headache was throbbing so badly that he thought his skull had cracked. But he managed to look calm and collected, coldly calculating, a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
"Once you make headlines with your re-emergence, a new, snazzy and fashionable man with his charismatic wit and humour back, just your news salability alone will make you hot property. When you become the first man to wear the clothes of Fantasia's new brother store – Reverie, you'll find that a lot of your old friends will come sucking back to you again, hoping to rub off some of your new found good luck. I want you to introduce me to your old circle Doug. I need a power base to support me if I'm ever going to survive in Anime City – that's what I'm getting from you out of all this – your past connections."
Dougy Cameron glared fiercely at Illumi. He hated having his hopes whipped up into such a frenzy like this, because he'd been disappointed just too many times, just too often. And the fall from such deflated expectations was too much than he could bear anymore.
"Don't you lie to me Illumi."
"You saved me Doug, and I am a person true to my word when I say I will reward you."
The man nodded, although still dubious. People didn't just sit in a poor excuse for a home and conjure plans of fame and glory. He needed solid details to rebuild his shattered confidence.
"Talk is all very easy. What's the first thing we do then? To make me famous and desired again?"
Illumi's smile made Doug want to bolt – it was looking right in the face of a psychopath who had an absolute power and ability to crush you but wanted to toy around with your life for a while longer before he snuffed it out just because it was so entertaining. His eyes even quickly glanced over to the door and measured how many steps he could take to reach it before he forced his mind to concentrate on the promises and gifts Illumi was going to shower him with. It was his last chance at a revival, if ever, and if cost him his life, so be it. He hated living the way he did right now – rather death and stake your life with the devil for the last gamble at fame and fortune.
"Give me a pen and paper. I'll give you my credit card. There are things I need you to buy for me, so that I can look presentable again. When I get home, I'll get all my designs ready and persuade my mum to open Reverie. In the meantime, you'll be living in a small, single bed apartment which I'll rent for you on Endless Parade. You will eat healthy and gain some weight, exercise to get some toned muscles. Your hair will have to be cut and I will exclusively control your wardrobe and arrange the photo shoots and talk to PR teams for advertisements – all featuring you. And that's just the beginning." He sneered with such sickly relish. And in a low and provocatively seductive whisper said "What do you think Dougy?"
Ice may have formed around his heart, his blood may have stopped running and he wouldn't' be surprised if he wet his pants. Dougy Cameron had never felt such an intense fear and the adrenaline rush was pounding gallons of blood into his brain. Who ever was sitting on his bed, so ruthlessly determined, so meticulously calculating, all too knowing and arrogant banged every sort of chord of fear imaginable. He was stuck to his chair with his fingers gripped around the round edges until his knuckles had turned a frosty white.
A pact with the devil for one last ditch effort at fame and fortune, glamour and glory. It's all worth it – he tried to tell himself and bit his lip to stop them from trembling. To stop him from whimpering.
His throat was choked up and his tongue thick and clumsy, but he managed to utter "You have a deal."
Illumi laughed aloud and clapped his hands childishly.
Dougy Cameron wondered if his ears were bleeding.
Author's notes:
My god I've been away for so long I just hope people can be bothered to read the whole thing through again and remember where we're up to. Yes yes, complain about the lack of plot progress if you wish, but I'm trying to set up to something much bigger (or so I hope) so I hope the wait is worthwhile.
Laste note - I've noticed that the story's taken a comparatively darker turn. I don't know if this is temporary or permanent - I haven't decided yet - so don't get so distressed! I'm not that warped you know =D