Killua walked with Gon down the wind-swept streets of Yorknew, mostly empty save for the occasional passerby. A light drizzle of rain filled the air around them, as the September weather cools, and fog lit up their breaths as the cold air condensed the vapor into water. They had arrived to fulfill their September 1st agreement, planning to meet up with Kurapika and Leorio later on and break into the Yorknew auction.
That was where they'd face their biggest, longstanding problem head-on: the Phantom Troupe.
Renowned Hunters, they were called. Lawless pursuers of their own accord. Thieves of treasures and flesh alike.
Killua almost felt a grudging admiration for their renowned skills, illustrious reputation, and ruthless coherence.
"Killua, they're so…interesting." Gon said, as if echoing Killua's own thoughts. Gon shivered slightly in the rain, although due to the cold or the primal, battle-frenzied excitement that overtook him and promised the thrills of a fight, Killua wasn't sure.
They had finished a day of arm wrestling people on the streets, offering a diamond if anyone won against Gon.
"In the moment, I didn't think too much of it, but that woman with the short hair and glasses said something about a Troupe and finding Machi as she was leaving." Gon continued. "Crazy, right? She was strong but I still beat her! She couldn't have been a Spider. They're too powerful."
Killua looked over, attention piqued.
"Machi?" He asked.
"It could have been mochi." Gon amended as his eyes took on an airy sheen and he quickened his footsteps down the street and closer to their hotel, no doubt thinking of its 24-hour dessert bar.
Killua's mind switched pacing, from a brisk walk to a rapid sprint. Could the arm-wrestling woman have been part of the Phantom Troupe? Was Machi somehow involved?
As the two returned to their hotel, Gon went to sleep immediately, desert goals forgotten. Killua, lying in the over-soft bed and turning the idea of Machi in the Phantom Troupe over and over in his head, felt as if the heated room along with the thick blankets stifled his breath.
Sensing that he wouldn't have a moment of unscheduled time again in a while, Killua gave up on the prospect of sleep and slipped back into the chilly outdoors.
Tap, tap. His purple and white shoes slapped the rain-covered pavement.
Slightly off-beat, he heard a similar tap-tap nearby.
It could have been the rain dripping from a low-hanging branch, or the scuttle of a nighttime critter.
Until his doubt was dissipated by a rough hand sealing his mouth and a flash of pink hair.
"Mmph."
"The others are in the area. We–" said Machi's voice before it was abruptly cut off by a sharp elbow and the ripping of a jacket sleeve.
Killua turned around after setting some distance between himself and his attacker. "You are here. And here I thought Gon was talking nonsense! You're with the Phantom Troupe. What are you doing?"
Machi examined her torn sleeve, planning how she'd stitch it together once she returned to the hideout. "I could ask you the same thing," she said. "Come with me." Machi turned and ran at a backbreaking speed.
Killua, given no chance to ask further, followed suit.
A bewildering number of twists and turns followed–down sidewalks, around street corners, a few blocks left, several more blocks over. It was a wild game of tag that the two played before arriving below a large, pale building, topped with a bell tower and flying buttresses.
Before Killua could take in the full view, Machi gestured him through a side entrance into the dimly lit interior of a church.
Shades of brown and gray on the stained glass windows on the ceiling would have shone in vibrant reds, yellows, and blues, creating a color-bathed sanctuary in the daytime–except statues were smashed, wooden benches toppled.
It was a desecrated holy site, a deed that, given the clues, was likely done by none other than the Spiders.
As if reassuring herself, Machi spoke in an undertone, "We only recently moved hideouts, so this place is safe."
Turning to Killua, she said, "The Phantom Troupe is in the area. Given how you and that…wild child go about every evening causing a commotion arm wrestling, it won't be long before they put two and two together. They'll recognize you if you aren't careful and apprehend you before you can mess with the auction."
"We just want to buy a video game." Killua said, belatedly realizing that it sounded more childish than he intended.
"I don't care if you're planning on auctioning a game or gold or a kidney. The Troupe will stop at nothing to take the goods we want, and there are more players than what appears. I don't want you getting struck in the crossfire. So in a few days, when the auction takes place, stay out of it."
Killua, just realizing the implications of this conversation, blurted: "Machi, you're in the Phantom Troupe! Why are you going around with a bunch of psychopaths massacring people and stealing treasure? I thought you worked for yourself."
"I have my reasons. A lot's changed since…" Machi began, the silence trailing towards the earlier time they knew of each other.
Killua's thoughts trickled to a younger, lonelier, yet nostalgic time, a time of high walls, cold mansions, and erratic family members. A time when a rigorous yet comforting training regime with Machi was the highlight of his week.
No time to revisit the past.
"That's beside the point. I know what I'm doing." Machi searched around in her sack, before grabbing something small and round and tossing it over to Killua. "You should be worrying about yourself."
"What's this?" Killua asked as he caught a gray device, the size of his palm.
"In these next few days, the Troupe members are going to roam the area and search for anyone who has insider information on the auction. Since you're so set on the auction, you'll be a potential target." Machi said. "This device has limits, but it can help you escape if caught in a confrontation. It suppresses the Nen of your target for half a minute."
Killua pocketed the device, making a mental note to start wearing fewer pockets so as to not confuse where it was stored.
Machi started to leave. "Remember what I said. I won't continue arguing with you."
Killua looked down, unwilling to conclude the encounter just yet. "No more training lessons, ever?"
Machi's tight expression loosened momentarily as she turned back. "We're in different places now. Any unnecessary contact will complicate both our lives." She pushed aside a broken altar, letting moonlight spill in through a stained glass window. "You don't seem to need my training anyways."
"They'll be on 50th street by now, far enough away from your place." With that, Machi was gone. No opening of a door, no footsteps diminishing into the distance. Things were different, old friends more distant, old skills more adept.
…
Killua, with all his prodigal abilities as a Nen user, was outmatched by his friend Gon when it came to navigation. Lacking such amplified senses, Killua couldn't rely on the subtle smell of nearby restaurants or temperature changes from sidewalk to soil to water fountain to guide him home.
As a result, what should have been a short walk took twenty minutes. When he did arrive back at the hotel, Killua checked that Gon was still in the same position, sleeping soundly.
Killua would not do the same for the rest of the night.
In one moment, he was 12-year-old Killua, exploring the world with his new friend after botching the Hunter Exam. In the next moment, he was six or seven years younger, eyes wider, hair more unkempt, and sporting some cuts and bruises, a side effect of being a careless child in the Zoldyck family.
Training sessions were the main events of his younger life, interrupted by meals, sleep, and some elusive free time. Sometimes the training was with his parents, sometimes with his brothers, and others, with Machi.
The strikes felt the same, whether they were inflicted as Illumi's cold punishment for not practicing between sessions or Machi's reminder that he left an undefended opening during combat.
The words felt differently.
You are powerless. You are self-preserving, and will listen to me instead of fighting matches you can't win. Illumi would say.
Illumi's a freak. Machi would disparage, later in a different training.
Weakling. Both would say to Killua. With Illumi, that was it. With Machi, for every few hundred insults and reminders that he'd had a long way to go, she would mix in a word of reassurance, a pat on the back:
I'm proud of you.
Killua smiled, momentarily unable to discern between memory and the present in his hotel in Yorknew.
He touched the Nen inhibitor device that was now beneath his pillow, rolled over, and finally, called it the end of a day.
Title: HxH and Young Justice
Requested by: killua535
Requested points:
Mirrors Young Justice Season 3 episode 22 "Antisocial Pathologies"
Gon and Killua arrive at Yorknew and hear about the ghost brigade, and when Killua finds out that Machi is part of it he gets worried
Killua goes for a night walk to clear his head, until Machi grabs him by the mouth (similar to when Deathstroke grabs Terra) to talk to him
Then Killua breaks free and asks Machi what she's doing, Machi says that she could ask him the same thing. Then she tells him not to worry, that everything will be fine, and gives him a device to free himself from a technique nen just in case
Later when Gon and Killua are sleeping in the entry, Killua has flashbacks of when he was a little boy and trained with Machi, and even though it was tough, he did it for his own good, in the end Machi tells Killua that she is proud of him and he smiles