Chapter Eighteen

Defenders

Kurapika wrings his waterlogged tunic into a stream. They're still within sight of the beach, but no one has dared follow them into the Dark Continent. Cowards, the lot of them.

"I found fruit." Bonolenov emerges from the shadowed forest to hold forth two red melons the size of his boxing gloves. "This will do for tonight, I assume."
"Thank you." Kurapika accepts one with a nervous laugh.

"They almost look like your eyes, Kura," Chrollo says from where he lies at the base of a mysterious tree with gurgling roots.

Kurapika rolls his eyes as he turns to face his lover. "You're sure you're not hallucinating?"

"Not entirely." Chrollo points above Kurapika's head. "For instance, the giant spider hanging above you."

"What?!" Kurapika stumbles and cranes his neck.

"Oh, forgive me, that was a metaphor." Chrollo chuckles to himself. Shizuku stirs to his right.

Bonolenov shakes his head. He glances down towards his phone. "Sounds like Phinks and the others will meet us by morning, provided they can escape."

"They can," Chrollo says.

Bonolenov nods. "Then what's our plan?"

"Well. We know there's plenty of weapon-ready lifeforms here. And nen. We'll improvise." Chrollo closes his eyes. He's still not quite himself.

"Rest. I'll be on guard duty for now." Bonolenov gazes towards Shizuku. "Would you two like privacy? I'm sure you have much to discuss."

Kurapika flushes.

Bonolenov doesn't wait for an answer before scooping Shizuku off and heading down towards the tall grass by the beach. Perfect to watch from.

Kurapika watches him go. He wonders if he could have been friends with this man.

"You defended me," Chrollo murmurs, interrupting his thoughts. A small smile rests on his lips.

"I need you to help me find the eyes, after all." Kurapika pushes a piece of melon into Chrollo's mouth. "Chew. You need to eat."

"What if I eat you…" Chrollo grins as he swallows. "Okay, that was a terrible line."

"It was appalling, actually." Kurapika nestles besides Chrollo, munching on his own portion.

Chrollo closes his eyes. Should he say it? "I realized something back on the ship."

Kurapika listens.

"I … felt different when you said something good about me. I wish I'd given you more opportunities to say positives," Chrollo confesses.

"Are you … sorry?" Kurapika brushes his knuckles against Chrollo's cheek.

Chrollo props himself up against the tree. He looks away from Kurapika. "We probably killed your sister in the first round."

Kurapika catches his breath.

"She would have been killed quickly. I promise. But the others, the ones with the eyes, like your Pairo, would have been skinned alive. Just to make your eyes turn that pretty color." Chrollo looks at his hands, which ought to be stained scarlet by this point. The melon juice is a thin substitute.

"I've said I didn't enjoy it, and that's true. But it's also true that I like the feelings that murder gives me – control, accomplishment, purpose, even. As though by taking a life, I could unlock its mystery. The mystery of why life even is." Chrollo sighs.

"The parents were last. They didn't much fight, for the most part. The elder had volunteered his life for the children, so we saved him as the final death. I viewed it as an ironic turn, like in literature." Chrollo glances sideways at Kurapika's ill face.

Kurapika says nothing. He's not sure what to say. If there's anything left to scream.

"I don't know who killed Pairo. I don't remember your friend's face."

Kurapika is not surprised. In a way, he's relieved; suppose it had been Chrollo?

Chrollo's voice picks up urgency. "Do you understand now? I cannot say I am sorry. There is no undoing it. There is too much to apologize for, and an apology won't solve enough."

"And if you don't apologize – if you continue to suffer guilt, that will provide more atonement?" Kurapika asks through the lump in his throat.

"Perhaps. Somewhere, there's a god who would see it as such." Chrollo snorts. "I, too, Kurapika, am a masochist."

"What if I told you – I really – I really want you to say you're sorry?" Kurapika lets his tears fall. "Maybe then I can allow my anger to abate. Maybe I'll carry my guilt forever, but maybe your apology will soothe my turmoil. I just – I want – I want someone, anyone, to regret the pain they caused my clan. I want them to regret it, and I want to hear them regret it."

"The pain we cause your clan, or you?"

"Both." Kurapika digs his nails into his palms. "I'm in pain, too. I wish I had died with them. It hurts, Chrollo. You hurt me."

Chrollo stretches out his hands to take Kurapika's face in his.

His eyes swim before Kurapika's. "I'm sorry. You deserved better."

Kurapika sniffles.

"And so did your clan," Chrollo says.

He releases his lover and bows his head to the verdant soil, inches from Kurapika's knees. "I'm sorry."

He won't ask for forgiveness, but he can at least apologize.

"If you keep acting like this – someday, I may forgive you," Kurapika says, unbidden. He places a hand under Chrollo's chin and pulls his face to look towards him. "You make me want to forgive you."

Chrollo's eyes radiate in the moonlight that filters through the trees. His lips part slightly as he catches his breath on wonder.

He dares to raise a hand to Kurapika's heart, which is pounding.

"Don't be afraid," Kurapika whispers.

"I've always been afraid of myself," Chrollo whispers back. His fingers wrap around Kurapika's head, pushing him downward until their lips meet. Please, forgive me.

"That makes two of us." Kurapika deepens their kiss.

"Do you know what I want?" Chrollo asks, rubbing Kurapika's back. He rests his forehead against Kurapika's chest. "I want you to have me. For as little as I am worth, I still want that."

"You're worth more than you comprehend, Spider," Kurapika says immediately. He pauses. "Wait, are you asking me…"

Chrollo smirks slyly.

"You spent too much time with Hisoka," Kurapika jokes.

"I do have Bungee Gum right now." Chrollo kisses Kurapika's neck.

"I've never…"

"You've felt me do it," Chrollo says. "If you want."

Kurapika nods, slowly. "I do want you."

He lays Chrollo down on the leaves and peppers his face with kisses.

Previously, Kurapika has always felt like he's lost himself to Chrollo. This time, however, he feels the opposite. Like he's finding himself within the feeling of Chrollo's warmth, of his strong thighs wrapped around Kurapika, in the ecstasy of Chrollo's face and his little groans and every gasp.


"I'm not going with you," Hisoka tells Illumi, seizing his stubbornness once more. "I can't. The ship…"

"Don't pretend you have loyalty now," Machi says, still leaning against Illumi.

"You had better leave. Unless you're foolish enough to think you will be spared?" The First Mate sighs.

"Maybe I like the challenge of certain death," Hisoka replies.

"You don't," Illumi says.

"He fought Chrollo," Feitan reminds them.

"Uh," says Machi. "And then went berserk when he lost."

"That was fun," Hisoka lies.

"Fuck off," Feitan shoots back.

"You're coming with us, Clown," Kalluto says. "The Dark Continent is surely as much a test of survival as Tserriednich's plot."

"Then it shouldn't matter if I stay, little one." Hisoka licks his lips.

"I wasn't asking." Kalluto raises his fan. "You're coming with us. It's a mere fact."

"Though you'll never replace your replacement," Machi adds sweetly, producing a small smile from Kalluto.

"I don't answer to brats," Hisoka replies.

"My brother is not a brat," Illumi says immediately.

"Look. This will probably take time to fix. For now, you had best lay low until this monster of a prince is dealt with," says the First Mate.

"Why are you helping us?" Hisoka demands, exasperated.

"Because I don't want innocent people to die. And I don't want to die, and our odds are better with you alive. Is it that hard?" The First Mate crosses his arms. "Not every person needs to belong to a group to help them."

The people before him all seem confused.

"Whatever. You'll learn eventually." The First Mate waves his hand. "Go."

"Wait." Kalluto hesitates. "What is your name?"

"You can call me Mercyn." The man spins around on his heel and marches away.


The third tier has a pile of collapsible lifeboats, and the vigilantes have already searched and found nothing.

Killua zips his friends in the opposite direction of the crowds as fast as he can. They can row ashore under the cover of dark.

"Surely you are not escaping, Oito." A tall woman with almond eyes and hair that falls to her ears steps in front of Killua, undaunted by his speed.

"Who are you?" Killua exclaims, skidding to a halt.

"I am Queen Swinko-Swinko Hui Guo Rou," she says, shoving him back. Her austere expression remains fixed. "Oito, I cannot believe someone even as young as yourself would have such disregard for the rules."

"And if Camilla had been your daughter, Swinko-Swinko?" Gon retorts. "She's dead, forever! And that Prince probably murdered your husband."

"This is a tradition!" fumes Swinko-swinko. "By escaping, you forfeit your daughter's rights to the throne."

"I don't care about the throne. I care that my daughter has the choice to stay alive." Oito clenches her jaw.

Melody clears her throat. "What else do you have to say?"

Swinko-swinko looks impressed. She steps forward and slips a bank note in Oito's hand. "Don't leave us forever. Return, with some of those calamities if you must. My son may not have the will to fight, but I have the fight to keep him alive for a little longer."

"Your money is meaningless here, Swinko-Swinko," Oito says quietly. "But I do not care."

"Promise me you will return and help us. Or I'll scream, and ensure you and Woble's deaths." Swinko-Swinko's voice trembles.

"She means it," Melody says.

"I can't blame her," Oito says, surprising herself. If it were Woble staying aboard to drink and feast, she would threaten whomever she could. She would ally herself with the darkest of creatures without hesitation.

How can she keep such a vow? How can she refuse? "I promise, Swinko-Swinko."

"On your daughter's life."

"On my life. You know I would not promise my child's," Oito says evenly.

"Do not dawdle," the fifth queen says, stepping aside. She strides towards the inner shipe. "I will direct the passengers away from you."

"Illumi's already ashore." Killua checks his phone as Gon lugs the boat towards the edge. "We'll have to reconvene with the rest of the Troupe. It's our best chance for survival right now."

"Compared to the royals, I imagine they'll be fine company," Oito says dryly.


"I can't believe we got outsmarted by a prissy prince," Phinks bemoans as he wades ashore.

"We'll get him yet," Nobunaga declares. "The important thing is that Danchou and Shizuku are alive."

"And that you two are." Franklin hits them again on the backs of their heads. "Gave us quite a scare, not answering your damned phones."

"Phinks didn't want to let a gaggle of stowaway children drown," Nobunaga says.

"And I wanted to kill the guard forcing them back into the water," Phinks adds.

"Yeah, sure." Franklin shakes his head.

"Well, well, well, look who made it ashore." Hisoka pokes his head out of the trees. "We've been waiting for you."

"Shouldn't you be fixing the mess you've allowed?" Phinks snarls.

"Should is a very different word from will," Hisoka says with a dramatic shrug.

"Stop, Hisoka." Illumi steps out of the forest, with Machi and Feitan behind him. "Given his own association with the troupe, he had to leave. You should understand that. We left the First Mate in charge for now."

He only now realizes he didn't turn Mercyn into a Needleman. How risky. He's ashamed of himself. Oh well. The ship won't be sailing anytime in the near future.

"Besides, now really isn't the time for divisions," Hisoka prattles.

"Should you really be trying to pick a fight right now?" Machi asks. This is the most revenge she'll allow herself. "You're nenless."

"He's what?" Phinks' mouth falls.

"He's – wait?" Nobunaga turns his head. "Come again?"

"Danchou stole Hisoka's nen to keep afloat," Feitan says. He feels mostly recovered, but Machi still sways slightly. Kalluto has his arm around her waist.

"He better fucking return it," Hisoka says with a creepy, serene smile, as if he's not screaming internally.

"Of course he will," Illumi says breezily. "Shall we get on with this?"

"I'm sorry, did he give it up willingly? Whose idea was it?" Phinks is too busy laughing.

"I knew I liked Illumi," Nobunaga decides.

"Feitan, what about your girl?" Phinks changes the subject.

"She can care for herself," Feitan says, avoiding their eyes.

Hisoka's eyes flit back and forth from Machi to Feitan. No fucking way.

"Long time no see." Bonolenov waves to them from the grass beyond Illumi, interrupting Hisoka's thoughts.

"Shizuku!" Phinks races over to the dizzy lady.

"She breathed in the most, but she's slowly improving. Water seemed to help." Bonolenov points to the trickling stream ahead. He'll let Danchou handle the matter of Kurapika.

"Good." Franklin ruffles Shizuku's hair. "We're proud of you."

She smiles up at him. "Yay."

"Where's Danchou?" Phinks asks. Hisoka shoves him back.

"I said, where is Chrollo?" Hisoka asks. "Because I need to see him first."

Bonolenov licks his lips. He points towards a grove of trees. "He's resting."

"Well, I need my nen back." Hisoka turns to go, but Phinks has already thrown him onto the beach.

"Excuse me. I'll see him, clown." He stalks into the woods.

Hisoka sends Illumi his best please-murder-him eyes, but Illumi simply turns his palms up.

Hisoka feels powerless and dismayed. He hasn't been this feeble since – well, in a long while.

He immediately covers his misery with his weaponized charm. "Is this because I won't sleep with you?!"
"You what?" Machi blinks as Nobunaga chokes behind them.

"Not now," Illumi replies crisply.

"We all know they're gay," Machi mutters to Feitan.


A few meters into the dense foliage, Phinks halts. An aura of pure horror settles over him.

The chain user, the enemy he will never forgive or forget, perches atop Danchou. His defiling movements are explicit – no, he can't – he is, isn't he –

Phinks sees nothing but Scarlet.

"Son of a bitch!"