Killua! How can you be so blind!
Kurapika felt light headed standing in front of this person completely different from the stuttering teenager he used to work with at the local community centre. Kurei could easily be described as riding on the epitome of 'cool'. He dressed cool, looked cool, knew what to say to sound cool and with the Ralph fragrance clinging to his crimson shirt – even as actor to fellow actor, he made you see him in a respectful light. He raised one hand in greeting, the other casually tucked into his front jeans pocket and gave a smile that could charm the apples out of trees.
"Hey Pika! I saw you last night at the gym and all, but didn't get time to say hi you see because I didn't want to keep my mentor waiting or anything." His slightly lazy speech and boorish approach threw Kurapika into a greater maelstrom of confusion. Now this was more like the Kurei he used to know.
"Why aren't you…you know…" he struggled for each word, trying to phrase a sentence that would sound the least intrusive or offence. "…different." Kurapika mutely groaned at how pathetic and lame he sounded. Couldn't he be a bit more like Phinx with his natural grasp for words?
He got a hearty slap to the back.
"Come on Pika! I only do the whole 'different' act in front of my mentor and strangers I don't know."
"He knew what Kurapika was talking about." Killua whispered incredulously to the rest of the quietly waiting group just two steps behind their blonde co-actor, wondering whether they should politely chat amongst themselves to appear that they weren't tuning into a private conversation, or meaningfully stare off into different directions whistling small tunes – preferably in harmony.
"Birds of a feather flock together." Senritsu murmured, opting for the looking away in another direction approach. Although he couldn't see her face, Killua knew that there was a slight grin in those words.
"Ahh!" Kurapika said loudly, hoping that by half shouting, you couldn't tell that his voice was shaking with nervousness. "I see…er…you've lost your stutter as well."
"My mentor beat it out of my system…literally at times." A grimace distorted the perfect face, but the more he conveyed human expressions and emotions, the more flawed he seemed and everyone began to get comfortable with his presence. Kurei's overwhelming pressure to humble them with his sheer perfection was flickering like a candle flame caught in the midst of a typhoon. Kurapika's hesitancy gradually slipped away and two minutes later, Kuroro was listening to the conversation between two commoners who most likely had not finished their high schooling. Well, Kurapika was struggling to get past his year eleven studies and Kurei…who knows what he'd gone through?
"So mentor has washed himself clean of work for the next month at least. He's not going to look at a single stack of papers, which means I get more free time. I thought that since I was back in Anime City, I should catch up with some of my older friends…not that I have many around these days."
"The children always ask where you are."
"Really?" Kurei looked away with a tinge of melancholy and dejection in those intriguing blue eyes, his voice just a bare whisper above the winds.
Then his stomach growled angrily.
"How embarrassing!" he exclaimed, one hand immediately rubbing the complaining area accompanied by unashamed, bubbly (air-headed) laughter.
Kurapika looked back and forth between Kurei and the group, trying to convey to his Hunter friends a hidden message they couldn't decipher but the rise and fall of eyebrows alone. Leorio gave him a flat, uncomprehending look which made the blonde fluster.
"We were just about to go and grab lunch – it's on Killua today. Could he…I mean would you…like to come with us?" he said, the sentence broken and directed at two peoples with jerky swings of the head.
Ah…the actors all understood in a flash of light. Their group mind came together and began communicating on another completely different level.
It's all up to you Paku they cast side glances in her direction. Only say yes if you're comfortable.
Gees you guys nag like my mother. The busty woman rolled her eyes. I can handle myself ok?
You heard Paku, Kurapika, Dancho projected the message forward on behalf of the crew by giving an almost imperceptible nod.
The dense kid nodded emphatically and turned to give Kurei an enthusiastic smile and a thumbs up at the rest of the group behind his back, just having obtained the consent of his other peers.
"Umm…sure…but that's only if it's ok with your peers." Kurei said, eyeing them all with a degree of caution in his eyes and reserve in his stance. He didn't want Paku to pounce on him again, the memory of being rooted to the spot by a woman with overpowering aura of sexuality and femininity nearly gave him an apoplexy. He was suffocated by her womanliness and her rich perfumes. She was like a lioness on the prowl, eyeing him with such hunger that his legs were screaming at him to run to the safety of his mentor, or up a tree for that matter, just what happened to be closest. If his mentor had not turned around to rescue him, he may have been thoroughly violated through and through in a night of mindless orgies with a woman whose name he didn't even know. He felt uneasy about her still, but the man in the black t-shirt beside her, the actor who carried himself about with the full airs of a leader, should be able to keep her on a very short leash. Aside from Kurapika, Kurei was familiar with the face of Kuroro – he grew up watching that man's movies. The rest…he had no clue.
"Oh they're fine with anything, right fellas? Let me quickly introduce you to each other." Kurapika pulled Kurei closer to the group, the other young man stumbling a bit behind him. Kurapika gestured to each of his fellow actors, providing their names as he went alone.
"This is Kuroro, you must know him for sure. This is Leorio; this is Senritsu; this is Gon – our main character at Hunter works; and Killua – Director Silva's son; and…er….you met Paku the other night."
"Nice to meet you all." Kurei extended a hand and a flurry of handshakes ensured. Pakunoda and Kurei still scrutinized each other with great caution. Kuroro finally understood why. Both were the ultimate symbols of attraction – in their own way – Paku, with her overpowering sexuality and Kurei with his enchanting, flawless features. They were at the peak of their 'art', so to speak, at the very zenith of their field and styles. It's just that no one could have ever imaged the two worlds colliding together, like two fierce magnets – would they repel or become attracted to each other? The answer was pretty obvious – neither trusted the other, and it was apparent that neither were going to get along unless there was outside interference. Were they subconsciously trying to outdo the other? To prove that one of them was the best? Kuroro was familiar with Pakunoda's thoughts – she had a wildly competitive streak that was barely camouflaged and concealed by her outlandish haughtiness. Kurei…reminded him of a clumsy, fumbling kid who wore expensive clothes and didn't feel comfortable in them. It was hard to tell just who the boy exactly was, and what he was thinking.
He couldn't bring himself to trust anything that had connections with Salar. Not after the confrontation last night at the gym. He thought that it was strange that he had chosen to interpret the meeting as a 'confrontation'. Truth be told, he was never Salar's friend, but they moved in the same circles together and saw each other often enough to be classified as mildly close acquaintances who didn't really have much to do with the other but had no enmities between them. And besides, Salar didn't have friends – not because he was unfriendly or too damn proud to have friends, but because he…just couldn't. He was aloof, distant to everyone else on just every damn plane. You could never engage him in conversation because his millions of thoughts were rocketing away in his mind at god knows how many light years per minute, and in turn, he probably didn't have much to say to you that you would understand anyway, not unless you desired to acquire an acutely painful headache to the left side of your brain.
Kuroro remembered a few years back that he had attended one of Lord Hades' lavish parties held in one of his upper Elysian ballrooms. The frescoed ceiling of naked nymphs prancing through forests, bathing in sparkling blue lakes and Adonises posing on various cotton white clouds was adorned by massive chandeliers – a marvelous latticework of spires and tears of crystal held together by gold and silver. Women always arrived in fancy ball gowns from Channel to YSL, decked in glittering diamonds, and men were denied entrance if they wore anything less than full tux with coat tails. Back in those artificially beautiful days of high class society gatherings and masks and punch that could knock you out with two glasses, classical music was regarded with respect. And personal performances guaranteed you admiration and jealous whispers behind your back for the rest of the night. Kuroro thought of himself as a good flute player. He expended a lot of time and effort into the preparation of that particular night's performance and had to arrange the people to play the Bach concerto for two flutes, harpsichord and a small string orchestra. The gathering of the elite and high society applauded him after the performance with more than usual vigour and he was entitled to smile with pride that evening.
Salar frequently performed – he could play any piece ever composed for the cello – from solo cello suites by Bach, the simplistic and elegant concertos of Haydn or Morzart to the devilish late romantic works by the likes of Paganini. On that particular occasion, he played a self composed piece using only the first five notes of the C Major pentatonic scale along with a simple piano accompaniment. The moment the hair of his resined bow touched the string and the first note whispered into existence, Kuroro was forcibly ripped from the extravagantly lavish ballroom into an unreality of a world so simplistically beautiful that salty tears stung his eyes, even from the faint memory of those lilting notes echoing so painfully wondrously in his mind. For the duration of the piece, he pictured himself in a grassy plain that stretched on without end in all directions. He saw himself lying on his back chewing on a piece of grass, listening to the crickets chirping and watching a pack of swallows glide across the boundless blue skies in V formation. The wind blew and the tall grass around him rustled with gentle sighs. He lay there, finding utmost fascination in studying the passing clouds alone, or to sit under the shade of an apple tree and rest his head against the rough and uneven bark of the trunk, content to listen to the music of time.
People didn't clap after the song ended, it wasn't the type of piece that demanded applause. In fact, a lot of people felt and acted quite awkward and confused afterwards, most likely because they'd been force to confront their real and true inner selves and for the duration of the song, had to abandon their pasty masks of plastered smiles, makeup and phony small talk. Forced to see and appreciate their own souls and unable to pull away. Perhaps some people saw things that they didn't wish to see, unhappy being reminded about who exactly they were, the person they tried to forget in order to become someone else.
Kuroro found that Salar had retreated to the bag room and from a distance saw him carefully packing his cello away into its travel case. Mustering enough courage he approached him and asked him for the name of the song. Salar looked at him for a long moment to confirm that Kuroro was not drunk and was sincere in his question before he, almost reluctantly, responded.
"Sanctuary." He sighed, turning away bending over to check the buckles and clasps on the case to make sure the instrument was secure. "The place where your soul began when you were still in your mother's womb, and the last place you'll visit before you die. It's our own construction of Elysian, rooted deeper than the subconscious, down all the way into the back brain and undermind." He sighed and stood up straight, turning to face him again.
"Rather useless piece actually – retreating to a paradise never got anybody's problems solved. What was it like to be allowed a glimpse of your life's final destination?"
Salar's wane and cynical smile was tinged with great emptiness, and then he took his cello and left leaving Kuroro to come up with an answer, the fading echo of his footsteps bouncing off the marbled walls as his only accompaniment. So many years later, whenever he had a few moments of peace and silence to himself away from the hectic life around him, he'd ponder on the question but was no closer to the answer, any answer.
Almost tripping over a particularly uneven path blasted away the grey clouds of yesterday's memories. Kuroro realized that they had already reached Gladis' Café and quickly checked to make sure that no one had noticed his pathetic day dreaming. His eyes felt moist and wet – on the pretence of yawning and rubbing his eyes, he quickly dried them. Inside the restaurant, some of the other Hunter actors were already there sipping out of large glasses of milkshakes and had reserved them seats for lunch at the Café, the largest table at the patio out the back under the sun.
"How was the scene?" Nobu waved to get their attention. Machi and Shizuku looked to Kuroro in alarm when Kurapika introduced Kurei to the three of them. He gave a an almost undetectable shake of the head.
Don't worry – he's harmless.
Oookaay…if you say so Dancho – Machi flatly glared at Kurei, still uncertain.
"Senritsu, give us your part again." Leorio grinned at her. "But pity you had to take out the rabbit teeth though – I thought they suited you quite well."
"Go to hell and die." Senritsu replied evenly and instantly without breaking the rhythm. Well, the bout of friendliness that the tall man had shown earlier was, and she reiterated to herself, uncharacteristic and infrequent. The return of the nasty implications was as inevitable as tomorrow's sun.
"But Leorio's got a point. I swear that my part is more comedy than pathos. I'll bet that once they echo out my voice and put in the background music in, I'll look a little more serious." She scoffed whilst pulling out her seat and neatly placing the jacket on the back of the chair and hanging her handbag on the chair's handle.
"And Kurapika showed us some pretty neat moves today on a dummy – note to self: don't ever anger this boy." Paku said with a grin.
Few eyebrows shout up in disbelief and when Shizuku looked to Machi to see if the other girl believed Paku's words, the golden eyed girl merely shrugged.
"So Kurei," Nobunaga ignored his fellow female compatriots and intently studied the newcomer "I see that you're hanging around Salar now. What's the deal?"
Kurei set aside the menu. "What do you mean by deal?" he asked, puzzled.
"Oh come on, don't play innocent. No one in their right mind would want to hang around Salar even if he paid them."
"Don't offend my mentor like that." Kurei drew back on his chair defensively, a crease on his fine brow. His hands clenched onto the handles of his seat tightly, body taunt and ready to respond to any reaction.
"I was meaning to ask earlier," Kuroro interrupted the conversation. "exactly what do you mean by 'mentor' anyway?"
Kurei was clearly suspicious and bordering on obnoxious now. "Exactly what the word 'mentor' means."
"You mean…like a teacher?"
"Yes Nobunaga-san – like a teacher." Came the acid reply.
"And what does he teach exactly?"
"Look, is this an interrogation or something? If you're trying to extract confidential information out of me, then I'm afraid I'll have to leave. If you're trying to imply nasty and unpleasant accusations against my mentor, I think I have better places to go."
Kurei stood up angrily with disgust. The chair's legs scrapped against the granite ground and almost toppled over from the force. Kurapika's reached out and pulled Kurei back.
"They don't mean any offence Kurei – honest. Please don't get angry."
"Chill dude – Nobunaga's breath can knock anybody out from a mile away. He usually doesn't think before he speaks, and even if he does think, words tend to sound unflattering and vulgar." Killua easily ignored the samurai's glare and continued. "Perhaps Nobu would like to explain the situation – exactly what are you interested in that man looking for Kurei last night at the gym anyway?"
"You explain Machi. Killua finds my breath offensive." Nobu huffed and sulked, pushing the floating bricks of ice in his drink disinterestedly.
"You're young kiddo, so thank your lucky stars that you are oblivious to some things." Machi took a long sip out of her drink and didn't hide her loathing for the subject she was talking about.
"Salar and his twin brother Karasu are about five years older than my brother. When Hisoka and Legato still found it fun to get themselves totally pissed and thought that pub crawls were god's gift of recreation to man, Karasu was already shooting to fame as the bomb wielding youkai in Yu Yu Hakusho, had his business up and running already, a trophy wife and son. His brother on the hand – "
"Salar is a genius." Kuroro again broke into the foray to diplomatically neutralize any pointed opinions that Machi might have expressed as her tone was steadily beginning to drip with utter contempt. Which was curious – she was a tad bit too young herself to understand the situation. Kuroro suspected that it must have been her brother filling in the details and gaps for her with tainted versions and biased views. Hearsay – the bane of reputation.
"He's always been very, very bright. He was the best in anything that he did, if he decided to put his mind to it. NASA already wanted to recruit Salar when he was fifteen. I heard it from my parents back then that Salar had been posting up suggested modifications and upgrades to rockets on scientific forums for feedback and comments. Apparently, NASA was greatly interested in his ideas for an overhaul of rocket propulsion technology which proposed to turn to a more fuel efficient method and was also far less costly. So they came here to Anime City but found a fifteen year old lanky teenager who enjoyed slamming out beta code in his spare time and furthering dimensional mathematics that would have the professors at MIT cringe in their boots and the dead ones toss in their graves.
"Salar told them to go away and stop bothering him. He said that to various other federal security agencies too – he would have made a great code breaker or constructed an impenetrable security program if he felt like it. But no one really knows how Salar thinks, not even his own brother. In the past few years, he's been especially…erratic – dabbling in one unrelated thing after another without much interest. Then all of a sudden, he left Anime City without saying a word to anybody. Hisoka supposedly filled the space he left as the 'wild card' around here, but now that your mentor is back, a lot of people are twitching and nervous."
"And what do you expect me to tell you?" Kurei asked cuttingly.
"Nothing that you aren't willing to give. I can perfectly understand that Salar has filled you with dozens of threats if you so much as gossip about him. So instead, why don't you tell us about yourself and how you came to meet Salar instead?"
"Bullshit." Kurei snarled at the infuriatingly reasonable tone in Kuroro's voice which implied that he felt no guilt or shame in blatantly gossiping behind someone's back. "I don't have to tell you fucking nothing. My life is my own, and I don't need to tell that to anyone."
"Ahh…Kurei, Dancho just wants to know what you've been doing lately. I mean, like…what did you do to get Recca so angry that you had to skip the city?"
Kurapika pulled Kurei back down in his seat and tried not to wince at how angry the pale young man's expression had become. Kurapika was always the last resort – the person they called in the salvage the most unfriendly of situations. Talking about Recca helped to distract his old friend and there were mute sighs of relief – disaster averted. The buxom waitress arrived with all their drinks before Kurei could respond. She set out a particularly large Oreo ice-cream sundae in front of him, bending down low enough to lower the tray and to give him a generous view of her cleavage and battered her smothering lashes at the same time. Kurei, momentarily caught off guard by the mountain of ice cream piled in front of him, managed to stutter a small thank you coupled with a smile that sent the waitress swooning. There was a folded piece of paper neatly tucked under the glass. In his curiousity, Kurei unfolded the note and blanched.
"Wow – that's pretty forward." Killua commented, leaning in from Kurei's left to read the contents of the message. The details included the waitress' her mobile phone number, her address and the days and times she was free. Kurei didn't have the heart to scrunch up the paper because he knew the waitress would be watching him and he wanted to avoid hurting anyone's feelings. So instead, he folded the paper up neatly again, meticulously along the creases, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. He patted the pocket with the rustling paper inside and grimaced.
"Yeah – this is one of the reasons why I had to leave Anime City so fast. You know how they hold those young teen actors conventions each year? In the first, and last, one I attended, I got about two bags full of notes like these, some from women three times my age!" he shivered at the recollection.
"Recca saw me with literally a whole bag of them, and that was bad enough. It was supposed to be the promo year for Flame of Recca, which stars him as main character, not me."
"He got jealous huh?" Killua grinned mischievously.
"Darn right." Kurei gave a dejected nod. "At the whole promo and convention, all these girls, and some guys, were crowding around me and cooing over me – much like what Paku-san did last night. And one of them was – "
"Let me guess this one!" Gon raised his hand as if he were in a class. "It was Recca's girlfriend, wasn't it?"
Killua hooted with laughter and congratulated Gon on his dazzling insight.
"It's actually worse than that. Recca had confessed his so-called 'love' to Misao earlier that day but she had rejected him because she had her heart set on 'someone else' and when he found out who this 'someone else' was…."
Even Nobu had to laugh at this. He leaned forward and clapped his hand on Kurei's shoulder. "Good for you kid! You have no idea just how annoying and objectionable the younger generation like Recca or Duo have become these days. They think they own Anime City just because they've got good looks. It never once occurred to them that to be an actor, you've got to know how to act. They must have skipped that part in their teachings."
"Mentor calls them Orchids – pretty flowers that fade and droop within a week of flowering. It equally applies to people with insubstantial fame who fade just as quickly as they rose to glory. In time, another similar show featuring a new group of well dressed mannequins will take their place and people will forget that Quatre and the like ever existed, or remember them only as 'the out-dated guys'."
"How profound." Shizuku remarked dreamily with stars in her eyes. She was leaning with her elbows elbows on the table and her chin cupped in her hands, openly gazing at Kurei. Machi rolled her eyes at her co-worker's lack of resilience and resolution – but it did beg the question: why wasn't Kurei affecting her as he managed to affect Shizu?
"Er….yes….so you see, it wasn't hard to work out that Recca would be pulling strings and calling in favours from people high up to have something nasty done to me. Besides, Mentor wanted to leave Anime city, so I naturally packed my bags and left. This is the first time in two years that I've been back in Anime City – it's changed considerably."
Machi irritably gave Shizuku a nudge with her elbow after the latter echoed some similar sentiments to Kurei.
"All right – I'm going to classify you as officially dangerous." Machi declared. "We have one young and impressionable girl in our cast who's recently become increasingly aware of boys. You stay well away from Neon, on pain of death, do you understand?"
All the men chuckled humorously and only laughed aloud when Machi shot daggers from her eyes at them all.
"You guys talking about me?" a sweet voice rang out from behind them?
Machi froze – Oh no she thought, another sheep to the slaughter house.
"Menchi-neesan and I were just at Fantasia to pick up our dresses after the alterations and – "
Neon stopped dead and her bundles of shopping fell ungraciously to the ground in a collapse of large cardboard bags and the soft rustle of crepe paper wrinkling inside. Her large blue eyes were intently fixed on the stranger sitting at her co-workers table, a perfect marble sculpture turned into life with a crop of glossy black hair, glowing alabaster skin, depthless blue eyes and the perfect facial features. A pink blush fired up her pale cheeks, the same hue and colour as her hair. She wet her lips and they openly trembled. A small whimper slipped past them.
"Neon-chan! Watch what you're doing! Those clothes are expensive, you don't just dump them on the ground like that!" her sister exclaimed. "Now hurry up and pick it up and take a seat."
Menchi shook her head at her ditzy younger sister's back. Always picking up her mess, she thought affectionately.
"Neon – "
"Marry me!" she squeaked
"What the heck?!"
Her often and supposedly shy and timid sister sprang forward and Menchi sucked in her breath in alarm as she recognized the extra figure seated amongst the Hunter actors. It was the boy from last night at the gym who had Shizuku rendered into a stupor and the domineering Paku hysterics. In the meantime, Neon had flung herself at Kurei and locked her arms around his neck, holding on even tighter and refusing to release him when Kurapika and Nobu's struggled to pull her off.
"…help…" Kurei choked, helplessly pinned underneath. Neon was too busy kissing every inch of his face, and however Kurei tried to think of pushing her off would land his hands on very inappropriate places.
"Mentor……" he croaked helplessly for the help that was not around. The sounds of Nobunaga and Kuroro grunting in frustration became increasingly distant to his ears as the blood flow to his brain was slowing down. The pressure around his neck was unbearable. "…mentor….help…" His dying vision caught a pair of glossy pink lips closing in on his own. Turning as far away as he could, Kurei clenched for the eyes in damned horror and wished that it would all be over soon.
Neon's body weight was suddenly lifted off him and Kurei slumped in his white plastic chair, gasping for breath and muttering hallelujahs under his breath. Sweet air filled his lungs and he groaned with relief, one sleeve already working away at smears of lip gloss planted all across his face.
"Oh mentor…thanks for getting –"
But it hadn't been his mentor who had saved him. It was another man who had come to his aid, now attentively fixing Neon's clothes straight. He wore a black suit with a silk navy blue tie on top of a pristine white shirt. Long hair like a brocade of midnight silk on milky pale skin was an aesthetic beauty much like his own complexion. His soft, almost feminine voice was hypnotically soothing.
"Neon-chan, you forgot the belt that goes with that silver dress! The belt is very important and the pretty buckle helps to contrast – "
The young girl started as she recognized who the man was and fearfully scrambled away, half hiding behind her sister, hugging herself hard as if to protect herself.
"Don't touch me you psycho." She said in a small voice and took another further step behind Menchi. Her elder sister was positively looking as aggressive as she was ever going to get with both hands firmly planted on her hips and an uncompromising scowl on her face. The memory of the struggle at Fantasia was still too real and fresh on everybody's minds and forgiveness was nowhere near the top of anyone's agendas.
Illumi didn't react – perhaps his shoulders had sagged a bit and a flicker of pain flashed through those large ebony eyes or perhaps not – and he still held the fine silver satin garment in his hand. He pulled out a small diplomatic smile and tried hard to pretend as if he didn't hear the last remark.
"I'll just leave the belt here on this table then Neon-chan. Be sure to apologize to this ni-chan here ok?"
Illumi turned to give Kurei one last look before he balked in recognition. He stiffened and his mouth went dry and another set of character and personality kicked in. He had just met the opportunity of a lifetime and he'd kick himself if he let it go to waste.
"Kurei-dono" he held out one hand for the young man to shake and tried to look confident enough not to appear too overbearing. "My name is Illumi. I'm sure a lot of people try to get to your mentor by sucking up to you, and I'm also quite well aware of your mentor's pledge not to discuss work for the next month or so. But I've got something here that's bound to amuse him."
A black duffel bag was quickly unzipped and rummaging followed. Illumi withdrew a gold cardboard bag with a gold rope handles and peered inside, examining the contents and checking that it was the right bag. He reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a business card, delicately dropping it into the bag.
"If you will please pass this onto your mentor for me?" he handed the exquisite bag over to Kurei.
"Sure – and thanks for…you know."
They all looked at Neon still cowering behind Menchi and Illumi knew his time was up.
"Well, everyone enjoy you lunch then." He pulled out another package from his bag and placed it beneath the silver belt which was neatly coiled and resting on the table nearby.
"And could someone please give this to Hisoka when they see him?" He gave another tight smile again and excused himself.
Nobody moved until Illumi was clearly out of sight and earshot then relaxed and produced audible sighs.
"It's ok Neon-chan…no need to cry." Menchi turned back to lavish attention on her kid sister who was apparently suffering post traumatic stress.
"The psychopath touched me." She rubbed viciously at the sides where Illumi had slipped an arm around her waist to haul her off Kurei.
Kurapika offered the timid girl his seat. "Don't worry Neon-chan. Here, take a seat and order a nice cold drink to settle those nerves."
With everyone settled and lunches ordered, the mood visibly brightened again. And of course, it began with Neon's bashful apology. If she could, she would rather dig a hole and hide in it rather than face the full force of Kurei's charming smile.
"And isn't that strange," he continued after agreeably accepting the apology and conveying a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth with impeccable manners "that Illumi-san was able to get the determined Neon-chan off me whilst two grown men were panting and sweating to no avail?"
"Don't get cocky with us kid!" the samurai growled but all his other friends laughed at him.
"Menchi, what are you going to do with that package?" Machi looked pointedly at the parcel in her gourmet Hunter's hands, the latter weighing it carefully and examining it from all possible and conceivable angles. "Will you give it to Hisoka?"
"I was thinking more about throwing it away." The cook continued to scowl. In fact, that scowl had difficulties leaving her expression with everything and anything connected to Illumi…except for the clothes of course. She consoled herself that Fantasia was, after all, Kikyou-sama's store, and therefore did not qualify as being connected or related to the detested man.
"That's not right." Kurapika uneasily eyed the two women. "I mean, it is addressed to Hisoka after all – why don't you let him decide for himself?"
"Let me decide what for myself?" the magician's lilting voice seductively teased their ears. They all turned towards the entrance of the restaurant and saw Hisoka jauntily walking towards them with another person at his side. A tall, slender figure with fashionably cut black hair, dressed in a casual sports jacket and black pants over a white shirt, sporting a pair Ray Ban sunglasses.
"Mind if I join an extra for lunch today?"
"Hisoka, Karasu." Kuroro acknowledged, raising his glass to them in the ritual greeting gesture of the Ex Club. Others shifted to make room for one more unexpected guest, mumbling their agreements.
Hisoka giggled and Karasu cocked an eyebrow. The latter drew a seat beside Kurei, listened attentively to Hisoka introduce the other men and women on the table, then picked up a menu. Kurei openly stared at his mentor's twin, appalled at the likeness, then gasped. He couldn't help but notice the faint markings on the tips of Karasu's left ear that were all too familiar.
"Mentor!" he managed to squeak.
"Well, it's a good thing that my protégé can still recognize me when the only distinguishing feature I have with my brother is covered." He smiled at his student and tilted the sunglasses up onto his head revealing a pair of ice blue eyes when everyone had been expecting a deep sparkling violet. "So, what gave it away?"
"Ah Salar! Well…you can't blame us if we can't see your eyes can you? You've still got the same haircut as Karasu." Kuroro tried to explain, ignoring everyone's rolling eyes.
"Correction – he's still got my haircut. Don't give my little brother so much credit." He turned back to Kurei. "So Ku-chan, how'd you figure it out?"
"The scar on your left ear." Kurei looked down, a blush creeping across his cheeks. Salar instantly frowned and involuntary raised a hand to trace along the curves of his ear, momentarily lost in thought.
"How on earth would you know Salar had a scar on his ear? Heck, I didn't know he had a scar on his ear." Hisoka said, half interested, half concentrating on unwrapping the anonymous package that Menchi had hesitantly (more like unwittingly) handed to him. She failed to tell him why he was to receive the package or who had given it to him for that matter. He shrugged noncommittally – fanmail – he was always getting it anyway.
"I…"
"It's embarrassing. Lets not go there." Salar said flatly.
"Come on Salar – it can't be that bad – cut yourself shaving?"
"You're pushing it Drosgen."
"I bit Mentor's ear a while back." The young man blurted out.
Hisoka choked on his drink, still halfway through unwrapping his parcel. He hastily grabbed a napkin to clean himself but ogled at the mentor and his protégé disbelievingly. Salar was putting on a magnificently straight face despite the stunned and incredulous looks people were giving him. He explained in a deathly calm voice:
"It was during training and I wanted Kurei to break out of a certain grip. The stupid boy didn't stop to think and pulled a Mike Tyson on me instead. There, we satisfied?"
Everyone was having a fit of giggles and had to bite their lips when Kurei tried to plead with his mentor for forgiveness.
"You were holding me too tight Mentor! I couldn't break out of the hold any other way!" he said plaintively.
Salar might have responded with something cutting, but Hisoka's 'oh' of surprise drew everyone's attention, as was intended. From a shallow cardboard box that the gold paper wrapping unveiled, he pulled up a shimmering piece of yellow material that twinkled endlessly in the sun light.
"What a pretty thing." Gon quipped up, his small fingers already reaching out to touch it. Hisoka quickly snatched it away in one, innate act of possessiveness that surprised himself. And it showed on his face.
"Menchi…who did you say gave me this again?" the magician watched the cloth slip through his fingers like liquid gold, dazed.
"Illumi left it for you. I think there's a note attached somewhere." She peered around on the ground in and amongst the discarded paper wrapping and picked up a small card. Respectfully avoiding the contents, she gave it to Hisoka.
The red head's gaze quickly flickered through the brief message and he sneered darkly, throwing the cloth back into its box.
"He thinks he can make up to me by with something like this?"
"I'd been meaning to ask earlier Pika," Kurei leaned over to his friend and said in a low voice "but why did Neon-chan call Illumi-san a psycho? You guys all seemed to react with…hostility towards him. I thought he was a kinda polite and nice guy."
"You see the faint bruises on Hisoka's neck?" Kurapika urged for Kurei to have a look. "Illumi gave them to him." Kurei nodded solemnly.
"And five grown men could barely push him off." Paku also added softly. Kurei's eyes widened and had to restrain himself from leaning across the table to get a better look at the fading bruises on the magician's neck.
"Why am I not surprised that someone tried to kill you Hisoka?" Salar said easily, a small smile on his lips even. "I hear that you're pretty wild these days. Offending people left, right and centre is one of your daily habits I take it?" The magician sulked and scowled at the same time. He retorted bitterly to Salar's accusation.
"Crazy psychopath – our Director at Hunter Works ordered me to look after him for two weeks you see, but our relationship deteriorated in less than 48 hours. And apparently, Illumi had been missing for a week – but he skipped town and went to the New York fashion catwalks without telling anyone. Got us all worried, thinking we'd be in trouble. I swear I want nothing to do with him anymore."
"He's apologizing very hard though," Salar diffidently studied the golden cloth on the table with a keen gaze. "That is hand made, has faceted, grain sized 24k gold beads, sewn into them and were last seen in late Qing Imperial China during Cixi's reign. It's a national treasure – treat it with care Hisoka."
"Oh Mentor – Illumi-san has a small gift for you too. He said you'd be amused."
"I'll open it when I get home Ku. Help Hisoka pack these things away – the waitress seems to be coming with our lunch."
Whilst Kurei and Kurapika were busy folding up the wrapping paper and putting it neatly out of everyone's way trying to make as little noise with the rustling material as possible, Killua's phone rang. He picked it up, not surprised to see that it was his father calling him as his father was always checking to make sure he wasn't up to any serious trouble.
"Yo dad – guess who I'm sitting with right now? Hisoka bought Salar with him to lunch – uh huh…ALL of them? Oh…I see…yup…ok….see you tonight."
Killua was hesitant, Gon knew it. He instantly recognized the bright gleam of confidence dimming in Killua's big eyes and the way his habitual cheeky grin lost some of its cheekiness. The Director's message to Killua had disturbed and shaken him somewhat, but his friend was trying real hard not to let it show. If it was any consolation, Gon would have told Killua that he was succeed very well in trying to mask his emotions.
"Hey guys, Dad says that if you haven't got anything important on, he
wants you all to come to my place tonight for a few tidbits and drinks.
He's got a small announcement to make."
6:30pm – Zoldick Mansion
Most people had long made plans for their Friday night – and even if the Director swore heaven and hell against them they would not break their obligations to their social life. As it turned out, only a handful of Hunter actors arrived, but Killua was silently pleased that they were the major ones.
"Hey Jenny" he whispered as the maid passed beneath him with a silver platter of salada biscuits with cream cheese dip. "Do you have any idea what's up with dad tonight?"
"Sorry Master Killua" the girl hurriedly rushed on, noticing the glare of the butler. "Ask Lady Kikyou – she's been in the kitchens all night directing us. She might have some clue."
"Great. Thanks for the info."
Killua watched the girl scuttle away and then let his gaze drift back to the dining area that had been altered so that it could hold a large gathering of people. The long table was set up with a fancy white table cloth draped over the wood, and enough food to feed ten families piled on top. Needless to say, the actors were attracted to the table like bees to honey and armed with small plates and napkins in their hands, they helped themselves to the food in generous portions.
Hisoka was here, and was so Kuroro. They always hung out together – if only because they shared similar age and fame. Out of all the Hunter actors, it was the clown and the Dancho who would initially help Hunter x Hunter attract the media attention it needed. And truth be told, both were darn good at attracting attention. For a moment, Killua got sidetracked into wondering just how much more successful Kaéry and Xelan would be at drawing in the spotlights and the camera flashes of the adoring fans when they grew up.
Nasty brats – he scolded to himself relentlessly. Spoiled rotten too. They come from perfect two parent families and had no siblings that they had to look after.
Speaking of sibling, Alluka, being his more than diabolically cheeky self, was having the time of his life intimidating the actors who had turned up. He left Gon and Zuuchi alone – they were his friends at Saturday school. And the fat pig Milluki (Killua wondered why he was here) was his revered God of Technology, so he got served the best sides of the pork and was allowed to taste all the wines first. From the balcony above, Killua lazily watched his brother's progress – from annoying Hanzo and Wing and Tompa, to being struck in deep conversation with the ladies.
Your act is fooling no one Allu. He smiled to himself, noticing the barely hidden revulsion Paku felt for kids in general, but particularly for nasty kids who had a tendency to lie, charm, brag and intimidate. Machi was doing her best to be polite – whether she actually found some amusement in Alluka's jokes could be debated however. Shizuku and Senritsu were noticeably absent, but you could tell that Menchi was glad that less women were around to compete with her for the attention of the men. Neon, her kid sister, was dressed tom boyishly as usual, and she took time to quietly pick at some salad in one corner.
Ah…Karuto had gone over to uncover Alluka's charade. Look at the vindictive venomous expressions just there, from both of them, as they tried to spill out as many of each other's secrets to embarrass the other. Karuto was definitely winning – his dad had told him that women had a natural talent for these sorts of things. The older female actors studied Karuto with varying degrees of amusement and respect whilst Alluka desperately tried to fend and dodge her verbal attacks. Serves him right for cutting holes into her favourite kimono that her brother had made especially for her. But then it served her right for pouring tomato sauce onto Allu's favourite jeans. But then it served him right…argh…the unending battle. Note to self: avoid under any and all circumstances.
A few other Geneir Ryodan members were announced by the Butler. Nobu entered the dining room with Phinx trailing behind him, looking glum. He had obviously sacrificed whatever social life wasn't stripped from him but the man had his priorities. Franklin, surprising was here – news was that his child had recently been sick, but it must have been over by now. Kurapika was babbling away to Shal, the young lad pretended that he was interested, but when someone was trying to explain their achievements in understanding year eight fractions to you, it was something you didn't necessarily want to be reminded of.
And that was about it. Aunt Kikyou stepped out from one of the kitchen doors and seemed to immediately know where Killua was hiding. She looked straight up at him and with sugar coated sweetness beckoned him to join the rest of the people.
"Killu! Why don't you come down and join us? Your father will be here soon."
Killua consented, surprised by his lack of resentment and resistance. He liked aunty Kikyou – others might say that they always copped earfuls from her, or that she was overwhelmingly demanding and bossy, but the over the past week or so, she'd taken over a lot of what Killua used to have to do. Even though Illumi had been missing for a week, she still left her shop just after lunch time to visit grandpa and incidentally run the house for him in the process (she's the type of woman who just can't stand imperfections and has to have a hand in everything – was what Zeno had muttered to Killua one evening), made sure Alluka cleaned his room out on a daily basis and handed his dirty clothes to the maids for laundry and even nagged him into doing his homework! By the time Killua returned from gym nights, Kikyou was still around – although she would be pouring over designs and other work documents from the store – and would tell him to get changed and have some dinner. Not that he needed to be told of course…but he strangely felt that he…liked being ordered around for these sorts of menial things. He could become a young and rebellious teenager again – have to be told to clean his hands before dinner, be ordered to get dressed and have dinner – he didn't have to impose these obligatory burdens on himself anymore. Alluka was looked after by someone else, just as he was being looked after too. He found the situation quite pleasant in fact, although it might have been interpreted as perverse, so he managed not to tell anyone about it.
Feigning displeasure, he made his way towards the staircase, but almost froze when Illumi silently entered the dining hall like a pale ghost. What was he doing here? Killua madly dashed towards the staircase.
Everyone was feeling nervous and agitated by Illumi's presence alone. Instead, he bypassed the table offering scrumptious food and headed straight towards the Hisoka-Kuroro corner.
Illumi stopped in front of Hisoka at more than an arms length, clear of breaching the magician's personal space.
"What do you want?" Hisoka immediately snapped to show his annoyance. Apparently, it was a reaction that Illumi had not anticipated, and he was struggling for words.
"I was wondering if you got my present. Did Menchi give you a gold wrapped –"
If he's feigning hurt and pain, it's a top-rating act, Kuroro silently mused to himself. Those big eyes were brimming with fading hope and those soft lips were trembling almost unnoticeably – almost.
"Ah – that." Hisoka bent down to retrieve the item out of his bag and literally threw it back at the pale man in front of him. "I don't want it. I don't want to hear anything from you and I frankly don't want to have anything to do with you ever again."
"I'm sorry about the whole incident at Fantasia Hisoka, I really am."
"Are you?" Hisoka retorted sharply. "I don't know what you are thinking Illumi, I don't even know who you are, and I certainly don't want any of your gifts either."
Any harsher, and Illumi would have dissolved into tears. This was promising to be another bathroom-shower-cubicle scene again, Kuroro thought with dread. He tactfully turned to one side – appear to give help to any side and the delicate situation would definitely erupt.
"I'm trying to apologize. What else do you want me to do to show you that I am sorry?"
"Nothing – just stay away from me, whilst I can still refrain myself from knocking your teeth out in the director's home."
Long, white fingers clutched the cardboard box and its contents tightly, trying to hard not to shake. Deciding that pushing the point here and now would be useless, Illumi turned around and saw his mother trying to get his attention. Repressing a sigh, he obliged and forced himself to put on a small, unaffected smile even though his insides were twisted in one great, painful and burning knot that made him want to gag and throw up.
"Good to see you socializing with you new friends Illumi." Kikyou said as her son drew near. She then frowned.
"You're looking awfully pale. Are you feeling well?"
"Everything's fine mum. Everything's good. Have you spoken to Silva about – "
And talking about the subject caused the subject to appear. Silva's entrance and immediate drive into the main topic cut Illumi off.
"Ah – glad that some of you could make it on such short notice. You might like to pass the news on to your other fellow actors who couldn't be with us tonight if you would please. I'd like to announce an extra addition to the Hunter cast. You're familiar with the people I'm sure – Kikyou's family will be joining Hunter Works."
Excited murmurs immediately broke out amongst the small gathering of actors, eyeing the new additions with mixed reactions, some thrilled by the news, others more reserved, and for people like Hisoka – downright suspicious.
"Their roles have already been determined." Silva ploughed on, his voice having the natural ability to cut through the general din.
"They will be playing the Zoldick family that Killua tries to run away from in the series. Kikyou will play Killua's mother and her children will all become Killua's feared and hated siblings."
Silva observed the reactions of the people in his spacious dining hall, but most carefully his son. Unexpectedly, Killua didn't react much at all. Truth be told, Killua didn't see anything surprising about the deal – it was one of his dad's usual tactics to offer his business associates sweet deals in order to foreclose on a greater deal and benefit for himself. He'd read the script numerous times – particularly the parts with his 'family' and frankly, they were minimally small. Karuto, his youngest sister, wouldn't even get a chance to say a word at all! No – the Hunter x Hunter show was more about him and Gon, not the addition of his family. They were just small roles.
"Excuse me Silva, but didn't my mother tell you that I couldn't take up the role?"
The director gave the man a puzzled look.
"Not that I'm aware. Is something wrong?"
"Mum! I already told you I had too much work coming up. I have to get you-know-what set up by Autumn along with my doll shop. I won't have time to act, you know that!"
Kikyou's vicious slap across his cheek silenced everything and everyone in the whole mansion. The dull ringing hovered in the air sickly for some time and everyone wisely shut up.
"Listen to yourself whinging god damnit!" she gripped him by the wrist and dragged him to the kitchens, slamming the door behind her. Killua quickly looked to his father with a look of panic and concern. His dad mouthed some words back to him, words which, on retrospect and much reflection, were eternal words of wisdom indeed.
You don't want to get involved.
Muffled screaming floated around them, hung thickly in the air, suffocating and repulsive. You couldn't tell if it was Kikyou who was doing the screaming or whether mother and son were yelling their heads off at each other.
Killua gestured desperately to his father at the door, urging him to go in and settle the matter. And the greatest shock that Killua had ever received in his life was the look on his father – one of dreaded horror and outrage at the suggestion, incredulity barely disguising his fear and reluctance to interfere. He shook his head.
No way in hell.
The first person to storm out of the kitchen was Illumi, who proceeded to cut through the dining hall ignoring any look that anyone was trying to give him. Kikyou then emerged, trying to pick up and piece together the remaining shards of her dignity. She gave everyone a pleased smile that tried to ignore all which had just happened and beamed the full force of her friendliness and smothering lashes on Silva.
"It's fine. We've got things settled – Illumi will play his part."
"If he's seriously got too much work – "
"No Silva, he'll play his part." Kikyou said with a note of finality, which, again with retrospect and reflection, was something that Silva wisely didn't answer to.
"Soooo…with all that settled, I guess everyone is free to go. The new additions to the cast will also assemble at Hunter Works on Monday morning then? Good – now get out of my house. I want to lead what's left of my private life."
Everyone tentatively chuckled at what they thought was a joke, and when the President of Hunter Works produced a rare (friendly) smile, they all laughed a little louder and slowly filed through the house. Only Kikyou and her remaining children stayed behind to have an extra word with Silva.
Outside, the sun was setting and the horizon was splashed with a mottle of purple, red and orange clouds. People squinted at the strong glare of the setting sun and slowly walked towards the tall black iron gates leading out of the Zoldick mansion, murmuring amongst themselves with subdued excitement laced with weariness about the news.
The gates swung open on well greased hinges and clicked softly as it closed behind them. The small group looked amongst themselves and said their good byes, splitting for the evening.
"Hisoka – Illumi's coming towards you." Phinx murmured softly before turning around. Anyone who had half a brain would know and realize that it was not their business to get involved.
The gravel all crunched beneath their stamping feet, but Illumi's footwork was especially light. There was another hopeful smile on his face. He spoke before Hisoka got a chance to cut him off, and he presented his small gift to the magician again.
"Since you'll be my new colleague now – perhaps you'd like to accept my apology again so that we can have an enjoyable time working together?"
Everyone couldn't help stopping and looking at the scene before them. The gossip potential and scandal factor was simply too addictive.
Hisoka studied the slender cardboard box and sighed, taking off the lid, dropping it on the ground, then reaching out to the fabric inside and held it up to the sun. It immediately responded with a life of its own and twinkled so brilliantly that Hisoka almost accepted the gift. But he had more control than to be swayed by a shiny garment.
His hands gripped the cloth tightly, then with one savage pull, tore the cloth apart.
A thousand gold beads, the size of a grain of sand, went flying into the air like a golden firework, a splash of a thousand droplets from a waterfall and soundlessly fell to the ground before them.
Illumi watched, in astonished dismay, as Hisoka returned the ruins back into the box he was still holding.
"I think that explains our relationship quite succinctly, don't you?" Hisoka said with friendly casualness, and walked past the man without another word.
Everyone had gone, the sound of their footsteps becoming so faint that it was inaudible. And Illumi stood in front of the black iron gates, staring at the torn garment, the delicate gold threads so violently ripped apart and now fraying. Not surprisingly, he felt the same.
Author's notes: This fic is going to rely heavily on music at
some points. Although it's not as important to the storyline now, you can
hear the Bach pice that Kuroro played at naxos. In order to listen to the
music at this site, you need a login and password - and listening is free,
so you can sign up, or use my account:
Login address: hunter_fiction@yahoo.com.au
Password: hunterworks
The piece is located here: www.naxos.com/scripts/newreleases/naxos_cat.asp?item_code=8.553505&memberID=95725
It's the Concerto for Harpsichord and Two Recorders in F major, BWV
1057 - except on my recording, it was for two flutes. Enjoy the piece =D