The Beginning and The End
Synopsis:
(Hunter X Hunter Hisoka x Illumi shipping. Oneshot.)
(Mature/ Sex/ Obscenity/ Smut/ Fluff/ Angst/ Drama)
Fire glazed Illumi's darken orbs. Heavy and unrelenting. Burned by the sight of Hisoka lost in an explosion of a towering meat stack. Now he retreats in solidarity. Quietly breathing alongside the still air. His only companion, a smoking pipe and an ashen moon. Hope is not a word familiar to the assassin. Yet, he waits anyway. Will he appear?
Quick Notes:
Happens after Hisoka's and Chrollo's match. And before the Spiders journey to the dark continent in canon manga. Only brief mention of events so story is not affected.
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The Beginning and The End
Chaos raided the assassin's midnight eyes.
The broadcast replayed on a giant flat screen in the Zoldyck mansion showing a pandemonium of hell within the battle arena.
A carnage of mindless bodies, bloodied and grotesque, and damaged spectator stands, as Hisoka clashed with Chrollo.
The video feed switched angles and positions often. A messy compilation of havoc, savage determination and wits. Of skill and power. Too fast for cameras to follow and capture properly.
Black smoldering eyes, as deep as night, locked on the footage in intense concentration. His depth of perception was precise, observing the torrent and movement of Nen. His focus heightened, piecing segments of the bout where the video missed to show, or failed to capture clearly. He grimly deduced Chrollo obtained new abilities that were not only troublesome, but also set the stage entirely in his favor.
Destruction rampaged the fighting arena, audience and referee not spared. They had their minds and bodies stolen, no longer their own to control. All their will imprisoned by a mere touch from the hands of the devil with an inverted cross tattooed on his forehead.
The devil called Chrollo Lucilfer.
Chrollo forced the fight to spill into the spectator stands, switching bodies with the crowd to create confusion, evading Hisoka. And with another terrifying ability, Chrollo made copies from people in the crowd, entire humans duplicated, becoming puppets that he controlled. A massive swarm of dispensable undead as his arsenal of weapons.
"Break Hisoka."
Went Chrollo's unyielding order, blaring through the sound system and resounding through the entire arena. Sending an unstoppable force of hundreds of puppets to stampede Hisoka.
Against over 200 people rushing in from the audience stands, it quickly became a mad furry of attacks that Hisoka was forced to defend against. Overwhelming masses of unstoppable puppets wielding frenzied savagery.
Hisoka was fierce and determined. A single man fending off a mad barrage of suicidal bodies and Chrollo's attacks at the same time. A tenacious and powerful force to be reckoned with. He tried to gain better foothold by shooting Bungee Gum to the ceiling, and hurtling upwards to create distance between the puppets and him.
But like a horror film, the puppets jumped atop one another forming a rising tide in chase, hot on the heels of Hisoka like a towering meat stack.
The video turned increasingly choppy and shaky, screens split, cameras busted as puppets detonated without warning. Widespread panic broke out among the rest of the spectators and frenzy ensued, adding to the confusion and chaos.
Hisoka attempted to evade the horde, zipping to the upper floor.
But the carnal puppets overwhelmed him. Caught him and compressed him like a giant mountain of inescapable bodies.
Then everything exploded.
Eruption deafening. Blinding ambers and lightning yellows flashed. Colors streaking into white across a quaking footage.
The footage cut away, stabilizing abruptly, showing a bird's eye view of the ravage through the entire stadium. It was like a war thorn zone with signs of a massive explosion taken place in the battle arena. A news reporter gave a situation report.
The contenders of the battle were accused of setting off bombs in the floormaster battle.
Droves of fire engines and paramedics were seen, emergency personnel rushing around the site of destruction, attending to victims and clearing heaps of rubble and debris.
Nothing more was shown beneath the rubble and remains of the giant explosion of human mountain. Nothing could be clearly seen.
There was no Hisoka.
"This match has claimed the lives of countless victims, including that of one of its participants, Hisoka! We will continue to update you as we receive more information."
Illumi switched off the television. Having heard enough. Seen enough.
He felt hot, blinding fire close over eyes when he closed his lids. He took two seconds to calm himself. Then about turned and exited his personal quarters.
Down the long, large corridors, butlers who saw him quickly stood aside with heads bowed slightly in decorum. Paying him respect as the first son of the Zoldyck clan as required of them.
He moved past them, cold and swift, his bearing perfectly impassive, as obligated of the family name he carries. No one would be privy to the thoughts in his head. No one would even be able to guess. His eyes were blank and hard as steel.
Illumi had previously assessed Chrollo's abilities before. Information shared by Father and Grandfather when they fought him briefly at the Underground Auction, because they accepted the job from the Ten Dons of the mafia to take him out. Chrollo held his own against the two of them at the same time with the help of a few Nen abilities stolen from others.
It made him tricky and difficult to beat because of it. Anyone would be at immediate disadvantage given the variety of Nen abilities he had in his arsenal.
But Hisoka was no easy opponent either. He was highly skilled and versatile in the way he transmuted his powers. Quick witted and intelligent, strong and powerful with excellent fighting instincts and perception.
So he'd gauged that Hisoka had just barely enough to match him in equal footing. His odds were fifty-fifty. But he didn't bet on Hisoka dying. It should have been the two winding up half dead.
And his assessment was not wrong.
What he underestimated, was Chrollo's cunningness and viciousness in flouting the rules of Heaven's Arena. Turning the referee and the spectators into sacrificial pawns, spawning puppets, and beating Hisoka by overwhelming numbers.
Chrollo spared no risks when he accepted Hisoka's match, intending to bury him in the arena. It was depressingly clear that Hisoka was forced into fighting with every condition in Chrollo's favor. A barrage of attacks from Chrollo and his hundreds of puppets hiding amongst the spectators. The overwhelming bombardment proved too much for just one man, even for someone of Hisoka's caliber.
And Chrollo hardly suffered any heavy damages, having Hisoka forced to play by the defensive with little chance for offence.
If Illumi had been there, the tide would have turned.
He would have been there. But Father issued him an important mission right at the last minute that he could not delay or refuse.
He had his butlers give him news updates instead. But he couldn't believe what they said.
"The match ended with Hisoka's death."
He couldn't reach Hisoka by his cell either.
Still, he couldn't believe it.
He rushed to complete his assignment. Then checked the replay broadcast himself. An entire day late.
Yet, he still didn't want to believe the reporter's announcement on his death.
Not the scarlet haired jester with a devilish grin.
Not when he couldn't see for himself the lights fading from his feral golden eyes.
His steps quickened. Hastened with resolution.
He turned down the final corridor, destination behind giant doors of a relief spawning majestic twin dragons.
His knuckles were steady against Father's study. Three raps, no more, to request for entry.
He entered when he was given permission, his head and shoulders held impeccably straight. A force of habit that came as naturally as breathing. No matter how heavy his chest and mind was churning.
"Father, I've sent you the report on the assigned kill I've completed last night." His tone was duty bound to be impassive.
"Yes, I've already read it, thank you." Silva nodded, tidying a small stack of papers between his hands. "Is there something else you wish to report?"
"I wish to request a break from work. For at least a week or two."
"What for?"
"For personal business, Father," Illumi stately plainly, then quickly added, "Our family won't be compromised."
Silva was quiet for three seconds, looking thoughtful in consideration.
"Alright, you may go. I won't assign you anything until you're back."
"Thank you Father." Illumi bowed his head lightly and proceeded to leave.
But as soon as he turned his back, Silva continued. "Illumi."
He half turned back around. "Yes Father?"
"You may take as long as you wish to mourn. But when you return, I expect you to move forward."
Illumi stiffened just the slightest bit. His throat closed in instantly, too tight to even reply a word of thanks. He just nodded stiffly, and quickly left.
Without another word to anyone else, he made a beeline for the family's private air ship, the smallest one that they were allowed to take for singular trips. Mindful of cameras everywhere else in the common corridors and spaces, he carried on as a walking stone until he made it in.
He was numb anyway. Face frozen with icy chill, as cold as the glacier crystalizing within his chest. Only his eyes were burning, clouding over and blurry, half-blind whilst he piloted the aircraft.
But the assassin didn't know that. He lost all feeling. It was not within his capacity to recognize sensations like that.
No awareness for the droplets of fire streaking his cheek. No ability to recognize grief.
All he had was a singular resolve, a bet in mind.
(End of Chapter 1)
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Notes: Poor Illumi. I cry just thinking how Illumi hurt. But doesn't recognize it. This was hard for me to write. *cry*
Thank you for reading and suffering with me. *sniffles*
….Now onward next chapter…
