By Yukitsu
Disclaimers: HxH and its characters are not mine; they rightfully belong to their creator, Yoshihiro Togashi, and I am in no way making any profit from this. Yadda yadda.
KuraPC is still dead.
Again, thank you to Lynlyn for proofreading this for me, as well as putting up with the constant wailing and procrastinating I did for this. She was also the one who gave me that extra nudge I needed to slip past the block I had for one part of this. It's the funny part. You'll see. XD She also made a pretty BoC!Kurapika drawing, and an avatar to match it. I'm using it in my spiffy new BoC-themed livejournal layout. XD Username's yukitsu. Lynlyn is teh hearts.
Chapter Five
Encounter.
I wake up with a jolt from the same dream I always have, disoriented and unsure of where I am. It takes me several seconds to figure out that my alarm clock is ringing shrilly besides me, and another half a minute before I reach out to shut it up.
The ceiling sort of fuzzes through my vision as if it's laughing at me. I blink, and it's the same dirty grey that it's always been.
It's just turning dark. I'd say it's pretty outside, but I can't really see much of the sky from my non-existent window. Apart from ventilation, the only other hole in my room's for the door. Come to think of it, I haven't seen the setting sun for a while, which is probably the only form the sun has that I've ever liked, human or Born.
The usual ritual. Fifty nine seconds. I slide off my bed and shuffle across my room to the bathroom to wash my face. My reflection stares back at me with blinky eyes, and I rub it to chase the image away. The cut under my eye is gone, apart from a faint, white line that will probably completely disappear by tomorrow. The puncture wounds along my neck and wrist have also healed, although they still look a bit red, and my knee's back to normal.
Walking around collecting the things I'll need for the night's almost become automatic. I don't know why I'm doing this. I should probably completely keep out of the Geneiryodan's way, and it's not as if I can do anything to them when I'm alone in the first place. The reinforcements will arrive soon; I would do well to wait.
Even with my logic vehemently protesting, I don my hunting clothes, arm myself to the teeth, and make my way out of the room – which, of course, can't do anything about keeping me back.
Leorio greets me as I enter the small dining room to join them at the table. They are just about to start having dinner; I observe with some satisfaction that we are having beef tonight. Mito feeds me well and more – she insists that I should eat a lot every dinner, since that's the only meal I have all day, and I don't have the heart to tell her I can survive at least three days without food.
I take my place between Leorio and Gon, and try not to grin too widely at the kid's infectious cheer. He doesn't look like he just got attacked by probably one of the most dangerous vampires in existence just last night. I don't know if that's a point for him when he becomes a slayer in the future, but it certainly is relieving that he's suffered no apparent trauma from the experience.
Mito hands me a huge slab of beef that makes the back of my neck hurt just looking at it, but I eat with much gusto. In front of me, Killua's already sliced his portion expertly into little pieces for easy biting. His career as a slayer will have an obvious outcome.
My Apostle enthusiastically announces later on that the back-up he promised to me will arrive around midnight. I raise an eyebrow.
"Only one?"
"Only one," he confirms, looking pleased anyway.
"What part of Bitten half-bred Wing descendants did the Guild not understand? Who did you talk to, Benign?" I scowl, wondering if the weird woman had anything to do with it.
"Yeah, actually. Mistress Bisuke told me that she'll send the one person who can help you over as soon as possible." Taken aback, I can only guess who they're sending. Perhaps it'll be the new Malign. I'm guessing that the Maledict is still abroad, and the Malefic is busy with Fenderling City.
His grin widens like he has a really nice surprise for me, and triumphantly announces: "The Malefic!"
"The Malefic?" I echo, a little stunned. The most powerful slayer the Guild has to offer is coming over as back up? According to Leorio, the Malefic's strong enough to pass for a particularly powerful Bitten half vampire. If that is true, he'll be the perfect person to take the Geneiryodan on without the danger of the group landing another blow to the organization like their predecessors had done. No wonder Leorio's so cheerful about it.
"Yep. He'll be taking over, though, but it's just for this assignment," he says apologetically while sheepishly smiling at me, and I cut him off before he can give me the specifics.
"No."
"No?" he repeats in confusion.
"No," I repeat firmly, "This is my post to defend and look out for, my assignment to complete. Malefic or no, he's not taking over the operations of this city," I tell him quietly, rising from my seat and shooting him a glare almost capable of withering plants. "He is welcome to assist me, but I am not giving over my part as the local slayer of Yorkshin."
The table has gone quiet. Leorio has the authority to order me to back out of the assignment, but it is still my decision if I am to comply or not. I was never known for agreeing with him often, and he's aware of that.
I'm at the door before either of the adults can stop me. I can feel two pairs of young eyes staring at my back as I leave, and I wonder how bad an influence I am to them. Come to think of it, I'm barely five years older than they are.
It was an idiotic thing to do, I berate myself as I stalk along the streets of suburban Yorkshin. The Malefic possesses the title for a reason, and that fact makes him the best candidate to solve this mess Yorkshin is in. My logic doesn't agree with my pride often either, like I don't with Leorio. The Malefic can help all he wants, but this is my city, and to term it crudely: I call the shots.
Selfish of me, yes, but I owe the late Malign this much. He loved this city, and died by my hands for it. For me.
I owe him this much.
This section of the city is usually clean of vampires, being close to the slayer's headquarters, so I do a quick round and head off farther into the city. I've gone over three residential areas, all clear of unusual stuff going on, when I turn a corner and nearly walk into Kuroro and two other vampires about to feed on teenagers in the middle of the street.
I stop just in time to duck back behind the fence of a house and hope that they don't notice me.
They don't seem to – no one even so much as pauses, apparently intent on feeding. There is no wasted blood there, or at least from what I can see. I recognize Kuroro easily, but his two companions are strangers to me. They have to be members of the Ryodan, to be with Kuroro in the first place, but which ones?
One of the men has this… miniature coconut tree made out of his hair on top of his head. He looks out of place, the punk dangling from his claws aside, because he appears to be wearing rags with various foreign embroidery designs at the edges and has a pair of swords strapped to his waist. Since when did vampires need weapons? His face is all angles; high cheekbones, a pointy chin decorated lightly with a goatee, a huge hooked nose, and sharp fangs.
Kuroro's other companion is a giant of a vampire, who I don't really think is a vampire at all. Werewolves are rare – one for every hundred vampires – and I've never seen one. If he isn't sucking at the blood of the teenager in front of him instead of chewing at his flesh, I really will have thought of him as a werewolf. To add to the impression, he's even wearing a fur vest and an expression of complete savagery. I think I only reach a little past his waist. Too damn big, it's almost surreal. He must be Ubogin. That would make the swordsman Nobunaga.
The steak in my stomach does a sort of tumble, but I ignore it.
The teenagers are done twitching and pumping out blood for the vampires to drink. Four teenagers, three vampires. The last teenager's white as sheet, and has the expression of having been fed on. I wonder if there had been other kids with the victims, and if they had escaped. Surely they would have looked for help, and Leorio would have called to inform me by now. Idly, I realize that he's probably just my age, if only a little older.
It's futile musing. A huge hand clasps itself around the back my neck even as it dawns upon me that the fourth vampire – the one who fed first, the reason why there are four victims – is possibly around the premise, thus putting my life in danger. I am lifted up like a cat by its scruff and roughly thrown at the three sated vampires waiting expectantly in the middle of the road.
I have taken out my stakes by the time I land in front of Kuroro and his Ryodan.
Another huge man, this one with skin a ghastly shade of grey and horrific scars cut all over his face, is the fourth member. He looks like the parody of some human experiment gone wrong, and if he weren't all hunched up like he's trying to fit into normal sized doors, he'd probably be bigger than the werewolf behind me.
Even with the determined defensive stance I'm holding up, I know I am at a disadvantage, surrounded by four Bitten half-breeds without a clear path to escape available. If one of them attacks, there will be no room for me to spare the other three my attention.
"I didn't realize our audience would be the slayer himself," Kuroro says casually from my right. I almost jump in surprise at the break in the silence (and that he knew someone was there – I'm sure I didn't give any indication of my presence), but I school my features into cold annoyance. It's better to look like I'm not too bothered by my situation, just in case they get lazy and leave me alone. I really should have waited for the Malefic to get here.
"Tell me, slayer, why didn't you step up to halt us from killing these people?" he continues, gesturing almost languidly at the pale corpses at our feet.
"You had already bitten them when I got here," I snap, wondering why he's asking me trivial questions.
"They would have lived, had you interfered."
"They were already infected," I shrug imperceptibly, and glare at him from the corner of my eyes. The man with the coconut tree on his head – Nobunaga, I remind my self – keeps on flexing his claws around. It's setting off warning signals in my head.
Kuroro chuckles at my statement and walks to stand a little more to my front. I can't say I don't appreciate the gesture – this leaves me with an option for a quick escape, if I can manage to surprise them enough to not go after me immediately. I'm pretty certain I'm faster than they are.
"It's an interesting term to use, when you're infected as well." I glare at him furiously, but deep down, I'm a little apprehensive on what he's going to do now that he knows, and if he knows I'm a Born and not a Bitten. A small voice at the back of my mind reminds me that at least if they know, they would be less inclined to kill me anytime soon.
"Tell me, Kurapika," he begins, and I'm startled at his use of my name, "Why are you, as a vampire, siding with the Guild?"
"It's none of your business," I tell him bitingly, tightening my hold on my weapons as I see the flash of metal to my left. Nobunaga has withdrawn his sword out halfway from its sheath, positioned as if he's about to charge at me.
"He'll be useless to us," Ubogin growls behind me, "Let me kill him, Dancho." I turn my back on Kuroro and scar face – Franklin? – to keep my eye on him and the swordsman. This pair is more dangerous to me than Kuroro and their fourth companion, if only because of the difference in hostility levels. I can't really afford to ignore anyone, but there's no way that I can watch all four without growing another couple of eyes at the back of my head.
Kuroro apparently ignores him, and continues to talk to me like we're currently doing nothing more than enjoying tea.
"Why do you kill your own kind, Kurapika?"
I snort, and glare at the werewolf-esque vampire when he bares his fangs at me before answering. "I'm a vampire slayer, it's what I do. If there's a vampire, I slay it."
"I'm sure there is more to it than that. Why are you terminating your own kind, serving under the Guild, when you are clearly not given compensation?" he says, completely ignoring my sarcasm.
Why does it matter to him, the nosy little bastard?
"Vampires murder people. I am here merely to give them justice," I finally reply, wondering how I can maneuver myself into keeping all four of them in my line of sight.
He doesn't seem to believe me, because I hear a chuckle that eerily sounds like the one the Late Malign used to do when I did something stupid. "It's a vicious cycle, is it not? Humans have to kill vampires to preserve their lives, and vampires have to feed on humans to survive. You are a half, caught in between the two forces, siding with those who seek to eradicate the other side, instead of those who are only doing what is necessary for their survival."
"Which side are you playing on?" I can't help but ask, inwardly shuddering at the almost poetic way he summarizes my predicament.
"It doesn't matter," he answers smoothly, and I can almost see him shrugging. "You clearly don't care for humans, with the way you let us feed on these, yet you serve the Guild. Why?"
I shrug, and mutter: "Atonement for my sin," vaguely wondering what he's going to say to that now that I've opened my big mouth.
"Oh? And what sin would that be?"
Existing, I am tempted to remark cryptically, but that's pushing it a bit too much. The dead won't be brought back to life even if I keep on mentioning them, and I am not the type to regret.
"I caused the Guild a great loss. This is the consequence of my actions."
"Great. Well, since you're a slayer now, why don't you just commit suicide since you're a vamp too, anyway?" Nobunaga cuts in impatiently. I bristle.
"I wouldn't be able to do any atoning if I'm dead now, would I?" I snap before I can help it, "Dumbass."
He growls murderously and takes a step towards me, fully unsheathing his sword. I stand my ground and turn to face him – catching sight of Kuroro's amused face -- cursing myself for being stupid enough to provoke the immature bastard and half-wishing I can just join the vampires I've sent to hell instead. The other half is wishing Nobunaga to hurry up and attack already, so I can release my stress on him. Hah. Right.
None of the wishes come true. The ground doesn't swallow me up, and Nobunaga isn't going any faster. He stamps on the ground, positions himself as if he's going to charge me, and I shift to position myself to catch any of his possible attacks. We both tense to--
Nobunaga shrieks and jumps back. I blink. We all automatically look down at his flailing leg.
One of the teenagers that they just fed on has wrapped his arms around Nobunaga's bare leg and buried its teeth on the flesh just above his ankles, gnawing happily at the chew toy. We're all staring; I can feel it. I bet they've never seen this happen before.
The swordsman finally gets his wits back and kicks at the convulsing thing – it lets go of the flesh it's bitten and starts wailing and screaming something horrible, alternately choking and gurgling between the two like its insides have gone on fire and it can't decide which of the two actions will help him more. It is probably true. We should all know that.
The boy's skin roils, withers, and turns to gray before our eyes. Its screams become high pitched, and it convulses, its new, bloody claws still latched on to Nobunaga's leg. I swallow thickly and inwardly thank my luck that I wasn't the one it bit.
Bitten is as far as Bitten goes. Born can be converted again. If it had targeted me, we'd both be there on the ground right now, convulsing and screaming together. I shudder.
It rears up, howls, and turns to latch on to Kuroro.
They're still staring at it with matching expressions of surprise – I don't think they expected one of the punks to live through that – but I do the smart thing. I strategically retreat. Run, in terms of the macho, but I did mean it when I said I am atoning for my mistakes. I can do better later as long as I am alive.
Of course, it's not as easy as that. Ubogin roars when he realizes that I'm this close to getting past him and swings his huge arm to block me. I duck, jump up, and somersault to let it pass harmlessly under me. I catch sight of the rest of them on the way down.
A foaming Nobunaga's decapitated the supposed-to-be-vampire, with its arms still latched around Kuroro's leg. That's about the only thing I see, before I'm once again trying to dodge mallet-like fists heading my way.
My mistake. I forgot that there are four of them, not three. I'm just about to drive my stake into an opening on Ubogin's side when another pair of hands catches me at the waist and wrist mid-air. Just. Like. That.
Kuroro's taken my weapons from me before I can retaliate and attempt to free myself. No amount of struggling can let me throw off this man, and with a sinking feeling, I realize that he isn't even giving it much effort. I think it's more of the size than anything, but if he really is Franklin….
"I should just kill you, runt," Ubogin sneers at me, grinning at me with all his fanged glory as he bends down to mock me.
"You already are. You should cut down on the punk druggies," I bite out without thinking, "It makes your breath stink."
He roars, this time with laughter, and bends lower so he's face to face with me. Kuroro looks a little exasperated and amused behind him. As for me, I've had enough. I am not a toy to be played around with, nor am I a mouse for cats to prey on. How would they feel if I shackled them to a wall and pissed all over their feet?
It'll take me a lot of effort, but it'll be worth it. I need to try and resume my 'strategic retreat' anyway. With a restrained grunt, I flex and my nails lengthen into bloody claws; I drive one hand into the fist holding me up and the other across Ubogin's face.
My claws aren't as long as the other vampires' and they don't come out as easily as they would on normal purebloods. The tips of my fingers are bleeding, dripping with my blood and theirs, but I ignore the pain forcing the claws out causes as soon as Franklin drops me in surprise. One of his fingers falls to the ground and turns to ash. In front of me, Ubogin roars again, taking a step back and clutching his mangled face. He jostles into Nobunaga, making it easier for me to pass through them. I jump forward, staying clear out of Franklin's reach – he isn't too fast, thankfully.
There is only Kuroro to go through. To my surprise, he steps aside and lets me pass; I shake the shock off, ignore his smile, and push through to freedom. I can allow myself to be confused later on, maybe after I'm back in the sanctuary of the church.
My hands bleed onto the ground as I rapidly zigzag through the residential streets, taking the nearest route to get to the forest. No one follows me back, even with the trail, and I wonder if Kuroro has anything to do with it.
With the way the bastard's been acting all night, I won't be surprised.
10:09 PM 9/5/2005
Edit: 9/7/2005