Assassination One: Killua
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Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter. There's nothing for you to sue here!
Status: Unbeta-ed. Need a beta. (Email: k.chanxoxo 'at' gmail 'dot' com)
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Twitch, twitch. Turn. Rustle. Rustle, twitch, rustle. Silence... and rustle some more. Crash! BANG!
"Itai, itai, itai!" a muffled voice whined. The tangled lump of blanket on the floor moved. One leg shot out, kicking the pale green cloth off. Gon Freecs clutched onto his head, teeth bared. What a nice way to wake up, falling out of your bed. He glanced at his bedside alarm. It was fifteen minutes past the time that it was supposed to ring. Taking it from the drawer, he examined it. Of course, he had forgotten to set it the other night.
"Gon," a woman's voice drifted up the stairway. "Breakfast!"
Yawning, said boy got up from the floor, still rubbing his head painfully. Opening the door labled "Gon's Room! n.n" in a messy, blue scawl, he made a move towards the bathroom down the hallway on the right while swinging the wooden slab shut behind him.
From the mirror, a boy of twelve stared back at him. He had spiky black hair - still not combed through - and innocent-looking eyes. Sleep was still evident in the deep brown orbs. He reached up to rub his eyes. Smiling at his reflection, he waved into the mirror and grabbed the cup beside the sink.
xxx
"Ohayou, Mito-san!" Gon exclaimed, bouncing into the room.
"Good morning, Gon," Mito replied, turning around to smile at the said boy. Seeing her nephew in his new middle school uniform, she immediately launched into speech. "Gon, you are now officially in middle school, a time for growth, new friends, and learning. This is why you must eat your veggies, drink lots of milk, and take lots of vitamin..."
Though his aunt had the habit of making this speech every time Gon enters a new grade, he listened patiently and nodded every few seconds. But like every other teen, or turning-to-teen-in-a-few, they'd developed the ability to zone out. Turning around to the breakfast table with a plate of eggs and bacon, Gon suddenly noticed a silver (AN: grey? silver sounds a lot better. T.T) haired boy about his age sitting across from where he was standing. Startled, Gon turned back to Mito with a face of curiosity.
"Anou, Mito-san, who's that?" Gon asked, nodding towards the silver-haired boy.
"Hrm? That's--"
"Killua Zoldick," the boy interrupted, giving them a cat-like grin. "I'm attending a school here, so I'm gonna board at this house."
"Eh?" Gon blinked, studying the new tenant's clothing. A marroon shirt covered by a white tee. "Your school's uniform is really strange. And I haven't seen anyone around here with the same one as yours..."
"Killua, for a moment, looked startled. But then, looking down at his clothes - still with a cat-like expression, mind you. Cat ears might have sprouted out of his head in a few seconds - and then laughed. "Eh? You're funny. My school doesn't require an uniform."
"Naze?" the puzzled boy asked, curiosity etched on every inch of his face.
"Ummm," Killua paused, pondering over the question. "We don't need one, I suppose. Maybe if we had one, we would need to sow and mend it every single day..."
"Naze?" Gon asked again.
"Eto..." the silver-haired boy suddenly glanced out of the window. He said too much, didn't he? Whoops. He needed some cover-up... or if they'd found out, he would be in big trouble. Luckily, Mito chose that time to interrupt.
"Gon, finish your breakfast now or you'll be late for school!"
"H-hai, Mito-san!"
xxx
A crisp autumn breeze attacked the two pedestrains as they crossed the street to the other side. Golden leaves danced and twirled around them, falling softly to the floor. Gon looked up, vision suddenly blocked by the color of yellows, reds, and gold.
"Gah!" he yelled out, thrashing the leaf with his arm to prevent it falling into his eyes. His companion next to him watched, amused.
For a while, they both walked on with silence, until Gon decided he couldn't bear it anymore.
"Ne, ne, what school do you go to, Killua?" Gon turned around to face the said boy. He took a glance of his watch. Seven-thirty. He still had some time before getting to school.
"I go to a private school," Killua replied, hands around the back of his head.
Gon pouted. "But what's the name?"
"Secret," came the simple reply.
"Why?"
"Because I say so."
"Why?"
"Just because."
"Why can't you tell me your school's name?"
"It's a rule."
"Why?"
Silence ensued for a couple of seconds.
"Why? Why?"
"You ask too many questions!" an exsasperated Killua replied, clutching his head in his hands and ruffling up his hair in the process.
"Huh? I do? Is that a bad thing? You don't like questions? Why? Why don't you tell me the name of your school? Does a lot of people attend it?" Gon exploded in an onslaught of questions, not really realizing that the red vein above Killua's head was getting bigger as each question grew. Oh, and another one just popped up on his cheek, too...
"Stop it with all the questions!" Killua's words cut through the air. After that, he mumbled something under his breath.
"Ah? Gomen, Killua! I didn't mean to make you ma--"
Gon turned to look at his new friend, but was only greeted by a rustling of leaves and a gust of cool air. Killua was nowhere to be seen. Blinking madly, Gon looked left and right, seeing nothing.
"BRIII-INN-GG!" the school bell chimed a few blocks away.
"WAI!" Gon suddenly yelled out, looking towards the direction of the school, breaking into a dash. "I'm going to be late!"
The wind blew,aking a few leaves in a tree nearby rustle. Killua stood crouching on a branch, right hand grabbing onto another. He grinned. His newly-acquired friend was pretty interesting... maybe he would play with him latter... after his 'game' at assassination school.
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Gon let out a sigh of relief, right hand laying on top of his heart. He had barely made it. Mito-san would kill him if he'd missed the first day of school! He looked at his schedule card. First period in the morning was... Health? What subject did Health teach? There wasn't such class in elementary school...
The slam of a door distracted Gon from his thoughts. The spiky-haired boy looked up, locking eyes with eyes. A tall man hanging his glasses by the brink of his nose stared back at him. He was dressed in a formal attire, complete with a black and purple striped necktie. Placing his suitcase on the wooden desk at the front of the room, he greeted the class.
"Ohayou gozaimasu," he started off formally, dragging off the 'u' in gozaimasu. "My name is Leorio. Leorio-san. In school, please call me Leorio-sensei. Welcome to Health class, otherwise known as Sex Ed--" a few giggles broke out throughout the classroom "--class. For the first few weeks of class, we will go over the reproductive system for all you perve--I mean, students out there. Then for the remaining..."
Gon blinked. What was Leorio-san, or, er, sensei talking about? What was the reproductive system? The naiive boy didn't have a clue. Instead, his thoughts drifted out the window, being carried on by the wind to a different school. Killua. What happened that morning? One minute, both were talking to eachother just fine. The next, Killua had disappeared, leaving no traces. Not even a goodye. To think that it was such a short-lived friendship; they had only met eachother that morning.
Did he do something wrong? Did he ask too many questions? If Killua ever forgave him, he'd swear that he wouldn't even ask one question. Brows furrowed slightly, Gon looked worriedly out of the window.
Somewhere not too far away (in fact, a ten-minute walk), a certain silver-haired boy sneezed. He sniffed, pouting. What was that saying again? That you sneeze every time someone speaks or thinks about you? He looked suspiciously at the people standing next to him.
School of Assassination. A three-year training course to prepare future assassins and murderers. Students varried from all ages, from ten to eighty-five. And no, the goverment did not know about them. Anyone that accidentally slips a word about the school gets killed. Unless the person spoken to was under surveillance as a potential candidate of the school.
At the moment, they were doing one-on-one fights against other students to test their abilities. Killua watched as a guy clutching a bloody nose got off the arena. Of course, today was the first day, so there wouldn't be any deaths. There was only one instructor and two arenas, so only four people would fight at a time. The silver-haired boy twitched impatiently. A game was no fun if you just stood there doing nothing. You'd think the school would have more arenas, with the highly expensive tuition fee.
"Ugh!" a voice cried, followed by a crash. Some guy with a purple hat had just crashed into the wall. No wonder. The school's always repairing things...
"Hn," his opponent grinned, eyes closed. "That was easy... after all, I am a ninja."
Killua twitched. A modernized ninja? Did they even exist? Or was the baldie just mental?
"Alright, next match is Killua Zoldick... and... lets see here," the old instructor mumbled, looking over the tip of his glasses. "Kurapika Kuruta? Yes, Killua and Kurapika, please step up to the arena."
Finally! After half-an-hour of speculating, it was time for some type of action. The Zoldick appeared in the arena in less than a second, creating a gust of wind behind him as he did so. He impatiently tapped his foot, finger nails elongating and relaxing back to normal again.
His opponent, though, wasn't as excited. The blonde took his time, slowly walking towards the platform. With a look into his coal-black eyes, Killua knew that he was serious. He held back a roll of his eyes. Not quite the happy-go-lucky guy you'd expect, was he? First day of school, practice match, and the dude was already trying to kill you with his eyes. He looked back into his eyes. Hey, it looked like he was wearing contacts.
Kurapika stood across from the other, locking gazes. Without ever dropping eye contact, he removed the blue and gold poncho he was wearing. From the back pocket of his pants, he removed two wooden nunchucks, grasping them by the taped ends.
The pre-teen narrowed his eyes. There seemed to be more to the nunchucks than what meets the eye... Killua was a bit pissed. First, the guy comes to the arena like a turtle, then he removes his overall in a painfully slow way, and now he's not even bothering to reveal his real weapon?
He was clearly underestimating his opponent here.
Killua planned to make it quick. Using his speed, he appeared behind the blonde and brought his hand down in one swift, slicing motion upon his neck. He smirked. Match finished.
He barely missed the glint of a blade in the sunlight.
xxx
"Alright, class, repeat after me. Penis."
Giggles broke out through the class, giving a barely comprehendable repetition of the word. A pair of brown eyes blinked.
"It is a male organ that..."
Gon sighed. This is so confusing! What did all of this mean? What was the class even for? He glanced at the clock up on the wall behind the teacher. There was five more minutes. Doing a countdown of the seconds until the next period, he breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang. Gathering up his pens, pencils and binder, he stretched and walked to his next class.
Outside, the hallways were a mass of student bodies cluttered together trying to get to their next class. It was like walking, talking, living cars bunched up on streets that were too narrow. And there seemed to be traffic jam on every single road.
Gon navigated through the hallways fine, trying as hard as he could to get to his locker. After trying five times to get his locker combination right, it finally popped open. He took out the new spiral notebook needed for his next class, stacking it on top of his stuff. He stood there for a while, looking around for a second, watching the crowds thin.
A pair of hands grabbed him by the back of his shirt, shoving him forward. Gon's vision blurred as he heard the sound of a locker slamming and the bell ringing. Laughter reached his ears from a muffled distance along with noises of shuffling feet.
"Oh god, he was actually small enough to fit in his locker!" someone said.
"Haha, I swear, seventh graders are getting shorter and shorter every year."
"I seriously wonder what'll happen to our school's sports teams after we leave..."
The voices dimmed, leaving Gon alone in silence. The spiky-haired boy bit his lip. What would happen to him now? He was definately late for his second period class, and Mito-san was probably going to kill him. No, scratch that, definately.
When he'd been to the school orientation during the summer, the teachers showing new seventh graders into the school had assured them that no one was going to stuff them in their lockers -- in fact, they wouldn't even fit. To prove it, everyone in the orientation had to try and squeeze into the lockers. Of all the newly coming seventh graders, Gon was one of the only seventh graders that could.
Said boy, in the same position as he was in during that orientation, moved around with a lot of difficulty. He felt around the locker and his pockets for anything that would help him get out. After about five minutes of groping around, he found the long forgotten fishing hook in one of the pockets of his bookbag.
Gon tied the end to a string, sliding it out of the vent out of the top of the locker. He lowered it, hooking it against the lock. Putting his ear against the steel, he turned the knob of his lock twice using the fishing hook before realizing he couldn't hear any clicks like all those criminal masterminds in the books he read.
Maybe I have to get closer to the lock, he thought, lowering himself down to an awkward crouching position.
Pull. Lower, hook. Pull. Lower, hook. Pull. Mess up. Lower, hook. Pull. Click. There was one of them. He repeated this process a dozen more times before getting all of locker combination. Freedom! Now he could pull the lock off!
But wait. Hold on a minute. How could he pull off the lock? Sure, the fishing hook helped him to get the lock off, but the string didn't have enough strength to pull it off. A thought struck him. He could double the string. He pulled the string up, while finding the other side to tie it to the hook. THUNK. The tied end suddenly got stuck. Gon looked through the vent. The metal hook was stuck.
He attempted to tie the string through the gap, but had no luck. The boy growled in frustration, giving the locker a kick, and throwing his weight against the exit.
A few lockers down, a red-haired man looked on with amusement. On his face were painted symbols in various colors. Definately not a staff member or student. Striding to the noisy light-green locker, he yanked the lock open, opening the locker. A scowling Gon came tumbling out as he attempted to throw himself against the locker one more time, but finding nothing but air.
"A-arigatou," Gon thanked, rubbing the sore spot on his neck from crouching.
"Mm," the other replied, a smirk forming on his face. "But you were the one that did your combo with that fishing hook."
"Ahh, I guess..."
The man turned around, walking away, when Gon suddenly said, "Wait, you saw? Then why didn't you help me earlier?"
"I wanted to see what you would do. By the way, what's your name?"
"Gon Freecs. Do you go to this school?"
"Hisoka. Iie, I'm just a visitor."
As Hisoka walked down the hallway to the nearest exit, he waved back to Gon. His smirk was still plastered on his face. Gon would make a good candidate for Assassination School... he should sign up. Speaking of Assassination School, he should get back before the instructor notices that the Hisoka in class was actually a fake.
xxx
"Ow! Stop doing that!"
After the first day of school, everyone was gathered around the dinner table. Aunt Mito, as usual on the first day to school night, was interrogating the boys. Killua was sitting in a seat next to Gon, rubbing the spot beneath his eye that Gon had just poked with his index finger. The cut stopped bleeding a while ago, and there was already a scab forming.
"Killua, how did you get that cut, anyway?" Mito asked with a slight frown on her face.
"Uhm, some ninth grader punched me."
"You should tell the teacher!"
"Don't wanna. It'll make me seem like a tattletale or something."
Killua poked at his food with a fork, rolling the peas and mushrooms around. Seriously, he hated that stuff. When he had tried to get rid of it, Mito-san passed down her Eat-All-Your-Food-Or-Else Decree. Just the thought of it made him gag.
"Today, someone locked me into my locker."
"Why would they do that! Do you know who did it?"
"No, but I got out. This guy named Hisoka helped me."
Killua's head snapped up. Wasn't Hisoka the guy that beat his opponent in less than ten seconds? What was he doing in Gon's school?
"Really? There's a Hisoka in my school, too. It's an uncommon name, though..."
"Did he have face paint and red hair?"
"...yeah."
Why would Hisoka be visiting Gon's public school? Wasn't he at Assassination School the whole time? Killua frowned as he trudged up the staircase to the room that he and Gon were going to share. Why did he confront Gon, of all people? From first sight, Killua knew that the magician was up to no good. Even though he had known the spiky-haired boy for one day, the urge to protect Gon overwhelmed him. Somehow, Killua had a bad feeling about what was ahead of the road...
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TBC. D:
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AN: My first HxH fan fiction! x3. Don't get me wrong, I loove HxH and I think it's the best anime ever. I think it's really hard to come up with ideas for HxH fan fictions. I don't know, it might be just me. I'm guessing that this chapter was a bit boring; especially towards the end. Still, I'll try my best! Please give me your feedback via review. Constructive critisism muchly appreciated.