A/N: This is the sequel to A Series of Politically Inappropriate Happenings. This story will be a little different from the previous two (which were quite different from the first installment of The Series). It was inspired by two things: first, a desire to try a slightly different genre other than Humour (a more serious one, one might say) and second, the criticism that Kuroro's relationship with Midoya is a little too perfect.
To Guest: You are most welcome! I'm just glad you enjoy my stories.
Disclaimer:I do not own Hunter X Hunter and all the characters affiliated with the manga/anime. All OCs are mine, which is something. The views stated by the characters do not always reflect the views of the author either. All characters and settings in this story are fictional.
The End: Adding Up the Scores
It was raining heavily, like the millions of angels sitting in the clouds were crying. Ideal weather, Neville McGraw thought, for the occasion.
Standing in his black suit and holding a black umbrella, Neville watched the caskets being lowered into the shared grave with great sadness. Though he hadn't been close to them, he had been the lawyer for Mahou and Miharu Kito for a good four decades. Even if all the conversations they had was purely about business, he had still known the man, had spoken to him and his wife. They had seemed nice… always so polite and articulate.
Besides, Neville glanced at the tiny figure standing right next to the grave, there was still their child, their one and only child from what seemed to be a very loving marriage. The poor child, for this to have happened to her, she must be suffering. Truthfully, Neville knew little about the child herself. What he did know spoke only of tragedy. She was only ten, but she had spent three years living in a mental asylum. For what, Neville had, bewilderingly, been unable to uncover. Then… there had been that incident at the asylum. Neville winced. He was pretty certain he could have made a case for self-defence in the court of law if he had been able to find out how she had gotten the gun that she had shot her uncle with. The child wouldn't answer any of the questions he asked her. He hadn't even managed to get her to speak beyond the minimum required for basic communication. That alone had made him uncomfortable enough to cover up the incident. Personally, he didn't think she did much wrong. Her parents had been murdered in a very brutal and grotesque way. She hadn't done anything wrong defending herself from that same fate.
Somehow, the child sensed his eyes on her, and she tilted her face slightly to look at him. Slightly embarrassed at being caught staring, Neville offered her a kind smile. He couldn't see her expression from under the translucent black veil she was wearing, but he thought she might have smiled back. He hoped she did. From the time he picked her up at the asylum till now, he hadn't seen any expression on her unnaturally blank face. He wasn't sure if that was due to her mental condition, whatever it was, or just how she was normally. It didn't suit her though; young children shouldn't look so serious all the time.
Finally, the caskets were buried and the crowd was starting to disperse. Neville turned to join them, but saw that the child remained standing there, gazing upon the fresh grave. Hesitantly, he walked up to her, unwilling to disturb her mourning but uncomfortable with leaving her here alone.
For what seemed like an eternity, they stood there together until the crowd had disappeared entirely and all that was left was the rain pouring around them. Then very softly, almost inaudibly, the child said, "Mir McGraw, you are my lawyer, are you not?"
"Yes, Miss Kito," he replied gravely, though he thought it silly to address a child as such.
"That means you will do everything I pay you to do?" she asked.
"Well… yes," Neville replied hesitantly.
"And based on client confidentiality, you cannot reveal to anyone what I say now."
"Yes," Neville replied and his level of discomfort rose. He had not expected a child to know something like that.
"Good," the child replied softly. With a careless gesture, she dropped her umbrella to the ground and lifted the veil. Her face was calm and her eyes dry. "Mother," she said quietly as the rain washed over her tiny, plump form, "I am sad that you are gone. I loved you, Mother. You were not, perhaps, the paramount example of motherhood, but you did the best that you knew how. It was not much, but I can at least acknowledge that." Gracefully, she lowered herself to the ground and kissed it. Standing up, she looked at the grave and said, "Father, I believe I loved you once, but now, I am glad you are dead." She stopped and the expression on her face changed so suddenly Neville stepped back in shock. "I killed you, Father, did you know that? No, of course not. You think Uncle killed you, but Uncle was just my pawn. Even from the confines of the hell you put me in, I reached out and killed you." Her face contorted into an expression so violent and hate-filled that Neville froze in terror. "I hate you, Father. I detest you. From the bottom of what remains of my heart, I despise you, you sick bastard," she whispered, her eyes glowing unnaturally in the dark. "Do you think you have escaped me now that you are dead? No, Father. Death is not enough for you. I will have my revenge in full. I will torment you even as you lie out of my reach. Everything that you wished me to never be, everything that you wished to take from me, everything that you wished to inflict on me, I spurn. And when I next see you, Father, how I shall enjoy the agony on your face when you see what I have done."
A skull-like smile, as cold as death, spread across her face as she gently lowered herself to the ground and kissed it.
"Mr McGraw," she murmured and Neville gave a tiny scream of terror. "You saw the pictures of my parents' corpses, did you not?"
"Y… yes," he whispered shakily.
The smile was turned on him and Neville's bowels loosened. "If you ever tell anyone what I've just said," she whispered, "I will do the same to you. Do you understand?"
His legs shook so hard he could hardly stand, so he lowered himself to his knees. "I… I understand," he managed to say.
"Thank you, Mr McGraw," the child said. Then she walked up to him and put her tiny arms around his neck. "You are the only one I trust," she whispered in his ear. "You are the only one I can trust. You are the only one I must trust. You know everything I need to know. You will help me build my empire. You will teach me everything I need to know about this business. You are very important to me, Mr McGraw. I love you. Please love me back."
Without thought, his arms went around her. "I love you too," he whispered, patting her wet hair. "I love you very much, child. I promise that I will love you forever."
They stayed there for another ten minutes before they finally left, but to Neville McGraw, he never truly left that cemetery. Even as he lay on his deathbed, holding the pale, cold hand in his and feeling those cool black eyes on him, he knew that a part of him had never let go of the deathly cold child he had held that day. The gentle pressure of her arms against him, the spells that was her voice and the black hole that was her soul had drawn him in and captured him for eternity. Surprisingly, it wasn't a thought that bothered him.
As he drew his last breath, he could only think of how pleased he was that he held true to his promise even to the bitter end.
When he finally crawled out of the abyss that was the sleep of the almost-dead, the first thought on Kuroro's mind was that the sun was trying to kill him.
Groaning, Kuroro tried to put his hands over his eyes. Even with his eyes closed, the sun shining in his face was blinding all the same. But his hands wouldn't move. Was he tied down? That would be quite inconvenient. He needed to block out the sun before he went blind. Death, he could deal with; not being able to read for the rest of his life would be unbearable.
Kuroro tried wriggling around a little bit and discovered that he wasn't tied down. Instead, his arms were held down by the immense weight of a thin blanket.
"Ah Dancho!"
Oh, how awful. Whoever was shouting needed to stop it. His head was starting to pound.
"Dancho, are you awake? Is he awake? I heard him make a sound!"
"Christ! Will you stop it? You've been asking the same question for days! There's no point bothering Dancho all the time. Let him rest, wouldn't you?"
"Just let me take a look, damn it!"
A finger prodded his cheek cautiously and Kuroro sighed inwardly. There could only be one person.
With a great effort of will, Kuroro forced his eyelids to open… oh the blazing sun… and closed them again.
"Dancho!" Now the voice was recognisable as Nobunaga's. "You're awake! Dancho!"
Kuroro coughed weakly, tasting dried blood and vomit. "Nobu," he managed to rasp.
"Yeah?" He felt Nobunaga move closer to him. "What is it, Dancho?"
"Shut up," Kuroro whispered and passed out.
When he next opened his eyes, he was propped up against Nobunaga and Machi was holding a glass of water with a straw in it to his lips. "Hey Dancho," she said when his eyes opened. "Take a sip."
Kuroro did so and promptly threw up on the blanket.
"Try again," Machi said without even grimacing. A stomach of steel, that woman. Or maybe she was just used to it. He had a feeling he had made quite a mess of himself while he was unconscious.
Kuroro sucked gently on the straw again, and this time the water stayed down. His throat burned with thirst and he wanted to drink more, but his stomach couldn't take much more than a few sips. When he let go of the straw, Machi put the glass down and opened the front of his shirt with clinical detachment.
"Good, your wound stayed closed," she said coolly. "It was a close call. When I pulled out the knife, your heart collapsed and stopped for several minutes. It took us a while to restart it and I don't know what kind of damage that did to your brain. Hell, for all we know, you're a fucking vegetable and everything I'm saying now just sounds like fiddles to you."
"Kind of you," Kuroro managed to say in appreciation of her care and concern. A look of relief flooded her face and she blinked rapidly a few times.
"No problem, Dancho. Just didn't want to lose you right after we got you back from the chain-user," she said with a brisk nod. "You're in Meteor City now; in District Ten. You were out for an entire month and some. All of us were here for the first few weeks, but once it seemed you were stable, Shalnark sent them off. Only Feitan, Franklin, Nobu, Shal and I are here." All that was left of the original members and his second-in-command.
Kuroro greatly appreciated the update, but there was more he wanted to know.
As if reading his mind, Machi continued, "Armando Basilio is dead." She offered him more water. "The Basilio estate collapsed with his death and some Federico kid from York Shin took over by killing the well… they're kind of like the Board of Directors of the Basilio estate. Moonshine, Hisoka and Timbal's sister got away with Kito." A pregnant pause. "I… erm… no one's sure if Kito was alive when Kikita Timbal carried her off. There was a dagger stuck in her side and there was blood everywhere. My guess is, it might have hit a couple of internal organs. And uh… she drained herself dry to get you to us. When we pulled her off you… well, I can't say for sure if her heart was still beating." Another pause. "They left by helicopter. Will you believe it? One of them, probably Moonshine, had actually arranged for a helicopter for them and hidden it near Basilio's. Have to wonder how the hell they managed that."
Ah ha! So he was right about Midoya's route of escape, Kuroro thought victoriously, and passed out again.
When he next woke up, the sun was no longer shining in his face, and his arms no longer felt weighted down by the blankets. With some effort, he managed to roll over on his side and push himself to a sitting position. A quick glance around the rundown room told him that he was lying on a makeshift bed of dried grass covered with blankets. It looked like Base Four in District Ten, but he couldn't be sure. All the buildings in Meteor City looked the same after a while.
The worm-eaten door opened and Shalnark walked in with a bowl of hot soup in his hand. "Ah Dancho!" he exclaimed, looking delighted. "You're awake! I thought you were when I heard you moving around. This is great! Feitan made some soup for you. See if you can try eating some?"
Soup? The idea made his stomach turn but he nodded anyway. Feitan was an excellent cook after all, though there wasn't much to work with in a place like Meteor City. He hoped it wasn't rat. He hated rat meat.
Fortunately, the soup turned out to be chicken soup. How Feitan had found fresh chicken in Meteor City would be one of life's greatest mysteries.
"Say 'ah'," Shalnark clucked motherly, holding out a spoonful of soup.
"Ah," Kuroro intoned dryly and accepted the mouthful of soup. As he stomach tried to decide whether it was going to keep the soup down or regurgitate it, Kuroro asked, "Have you found out what happened to Midoya? I mean… Kito."
Shalnark blinked in surprise, but Kuroro wasn't sure if it was at his question or at the change in the way he addressed Midoya. "Uh yeah," Shalnark said awkwardly. "She survived. It's all over the Web now. 'Rich Heiress Returns Safely With Family Heirloom' and all that tabloid rubbish. She's got the Infinity Gem. Her position as Head of the Kito estate is stronger than ever."
"Oh," Kuroro replied and couldn't decide if he was irritated or pleased. As he was still thinking about it, Shalnark fed him more soup.
"By the way, you've got mail," Shalnark told him.
Kuroro blinked. "Mail?" he questioned around a mouthful of mushy vegetable. "You mean like letters?" That was a strange and bizarre concept in the world of emails and instant messaging.
Beaming, Shalnark reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of envelopes. "Wanna read them?" he asked cheerfully.
The first letter, to his surprise, was from Pepeka. It read: "My sis said you got hurt on a mission with sensei. You idiots should have called me up. Whatever, man. Hope you get well soon. We can have drinks together the next time you're in York Shin. Pepeka."
"Guess Kito never told him about what she did," Shalnark mused.
No, of course not, Kuroro thought. Midoya wouldn't have called Pepeka up, not when her plan involved backstabbing the Ryodan. Pepeka might be able to accept the assassination of a mafia boss with some persuasion, but the betrayal of his friends? No way. No matter how persuasive Midoya was, she would never have gotten him to agree to that. That must be the real reason she refused to bring Pepeka on this mission.
To his even greater surprise, the back of Pepeka's letter had a note from Kikita. "Sorry about stabbing you in the back," Kuroro read. "Midoya's my girl and I hardly know you so you can't blame me, right? Smiley face. Still, I like you and hope there are no hard feelings between us. If I ever get a divorce with John, I'll totally bonk you. Just so you know. Anyway, I'll do you a favour since you helped get rid of Armando Basilio and you killed Decimal. Hope you get better soon. John sends his love. PS: Where did you buy your faux leather coat? John loves it and wants to try dressing like you. Now that he's no longer pretending to be a sweetie, he wants to experiment with the bondage fashion stuff. Isn't that cool and all?"
"That's nice of her," Shalnark commented. "She's actually really sweet. She helped us arrange transport to get you out of Agocchi without alerting anybody. Did you know Nobunaga fell in love with her? He was torn up when he found out she's married."
"Oh… that's…" But since Kuroro had no idea what that was, he just shut up.
"I'm sure he'll get over it," Shalnark said with a shrug. "You know… as long as you don't mention the part about Kikita Timbal being head over heels in lust with you."
"I'm sure too." Kuroro frowned at the third letter. The emblem of the Hunter Association was blazed across the top right-hand corner of the envelope. Cautiously, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. "Dear Kuroro Lucifer (Dancho), this is Piyon of the Zodiac Twelve writing on behalf of said group. We have learned, through first-hand accounts, that you have been betrayed and almost killed by Two Star Blacklist Hunter Midoya. On behalf of the Hunter Association, we would like to offer you our most sincere congratulations on joining the ranks of the Hall of Endless Shame, a prestigious position the Zodiac Twelve had established ten years back for the poor idiots who were dumb enough to actually date Midoya Kito. You will find your medal in the envelope with this letter. Furthermore, being the only boyfriend of Midoya's to date to survive her wrath, the Zodiac Twelve have decided to confer onto you the title of 'Poor Fucker Who Has to Live With the Shame'. The accompanying medal can also be found in this letter. We offer you the best wishes in your future endeavours and hope you will apply better sense when searching for your next girlfriend, that is, if Midoya hasn't really castrated you this time. Regards. Piyon (Rabbit)."
Shalnark smartly did not comment as Kuroro calmly tore the letter up, stuffed it back into the envelope with the two medals, and told Shalnark to burn the whole thing.
The last letter was in an elegant cream envelope. The handwriting on the back was neat, precise and vaguely familiar. It screamed of a very expensive education. Kuroro tore it open and glanced at it. "Dear Nicholas, I assure you June never meant to hurt you. Annabella Dunstan." Kuroro blinked. He hadn't expected that.
Turning the letter over, he saw there was more. "PS," the postcript read, "This letter is poisoned. You will be dead in two hours, you cheating whore."
His insides, still achy from his near-death experience, groaned with exhaustion. "Oh bugger me," Kuroro sighed and passed out again.
When Kuroro recovered from the poison three days later, the first thing he did was call the Ryodan members present to him.
"Ryodan, I have a new mission," he announced as Shalnark fed him more chicken soup.
"New mission?" Shalnark asked. "Should I call the rest back then?"
"Not necessary," Kuroro said, swallowing. "It's six of us against one of her after all."
A tensed silence filled the room as Kuroro sipped more soup.
"Dancho…" Nobu said hesitantly. "Are you uh… suggesting what we think you're suggesting?"
"If you think I'm suggesting we kill Mi… Kito then you are right," Kuroro replied. Shalnark spooned him another mouthful of soup, but in Kuroro's opinion, he was being too slow about it. So he took the bowl from Shalnark and gulped the soup down ravenously. Goodness, he was starving and the soup was excellent.
"Ha, I knew that was going to happen," Feitan said with bland triumph even as Nobunaga threw back his head and howled with frustration.
Eyeing them over the rim of the bowl, Kuroro demanded, "What?" around a mouthful of chicken.
"Why are you going after Kito?" Nobunaga demanded.
That stopped Kuroro's inhalation of the soup. "What do you mean by that?" he asked. "Do you not remember what she did to us? She betrayed the Ryodan. She betrayed me." He stared at the faces staring back at him. "Am I wrong?" he asked, confused. A thought struck him and he asked hopefully, "Did I dream the whole thing?"
"No, you didn't," Franklin reassured him. "It's just… we have been arguing about this issue for weeks now."
"Arguing?" Kuroro asked, still trying to shake off his confusion. "What is there to argue about?"
"Semantics," Feitan snorted, looking down his nose at Nobunaga.
"It's not 'semantics', damn it!" Nobunaga shouted back. "It's important!"
As calmly as he could, Kuroro put down the bowl and fixed the two of them with a stern glare. "Both of you stop shouting," he ordered. When they've subsided, he added, "Shalnark, you explain."
"Well…" Shalnark glanced around at the other members. "Actually, it's better if Franklin explains. Feitan and I are of the same opinion as you, Dancho. We feel that she betrayed the Ryodan. Feitan thinks we should kill her, but I'm on the fence about the issue. If she's not a threat, it's not really that big a deal if we let her go. Franklin, Nobu and Machi just don't think that Kito had really betrayed us."
"Franklin?" Kuroro demanded. "What is this rubbish about Mid… Kito not betraying us?"
Franklin blinked slowly. "Well, technically she didn't," he said blandly.
"What?"
"Kito isn't part of the Ryodan, is she?" Franklin pointed out in a very reasonable tone. "How can she betray the Ryodan if she isn't part of us in the first place?"
"Besides!" Nobunaga piped up stubbornly. "We think that if you count out the score, you owe her, Dancho!"
"What?" Kuroro had never thought he would hear his voice go that high, but there it was.
Nobunaga flushed red. "Well," he said slowly. "I mean… first, Dancho, from what we gather, the first time you guys met, she offered you her penthouse. For free. That's one you owe her. Then… um… though you didn't know it then, you attacked her mansion even though you had a truce, so that's two you owe her." Nobunaga's voice was speeding up as Kuroro's expression grew colder. "Then… then… she helped you get back your Nen, for free! That's three you owe her. And I mean, we saved her ass from the Hunter's Association, so that's back to two we owe her. Then now she backstabs you, and so that's one you owe her. And, I guess she almost killed you, which means the odds were even. But then, she almost died saving you. I mean, if you count it out that way, Dancho, you're still in her debt."
"That's rubbish," Feitan interrupted. "It doesn't matter what she's done for Dancho in the past. What matters is that she turned on him and almost got him killed."
"Yes, but it wasn't intentional. It's obvious she wasn't truly out to kill us," Machi argued. . "I mean, she knows that there are a maximum of thirteen people in the Ryodan, and how many people did she hire to fight us? Three: Hisoka, Moonshine and Kikita Timbal. Hell, when we fought them in the Basilio mansion, we were always at an advantage. Her helpers always came out alone to fight us instead of ganging up together on us. Now that I think back on the fights, I'm pretty certain she told them to just distract us and then get the fuck away once she was done. They were never really there to kill us."
"What the fuck does that matter?" Feitan snapped. "All that matters is she did hurt Dancho in the end."
"But she almost died saving him too," Nobunaga pointed out. "It evens the odds."
"She's still a threat, right Shal?"
Shalnark blinked. "Uh… actually, we're not sure she is," he said cautiously. "I mean… she did send those doctors…"
"Doctors?" Kuroro asked, trying not to feel overwhelmed. "What doctors?"
"Kito sent doctors over to take care of you," Nobunaga said impatiently. "You caught an infection and almost died. Oh yeah, you need to eat your antibiotics too, Dancho! Don't forget! They're really important!"
"Yeah," Feitan argued, "but even if she did…"
"Hold on a minute!" Kuroro snapped, raising both hands. "Just hold on a minute." The arguments ceased and all five Ryodan members turned to stare at him. "How," Kuroro demanded sternly, "did Midoya know I have an infection in the first place? And how on earth do you guys know about the truce I had with her? I never told you any of that." Now the Ryodan members were staring at their feet. "Who in this room," Kuroro said slowly, "is still in contact with Midoya?"
To his horror, all five hands went up.
"Why?" he demanded. "Why are you still talking to her? Feitan? I thought you're advocating killing her!"
"Well yes," Feitan said uncomfortably. "I think we should kill her, but it's not like I dislike her. Besides, she called to apologise about the whole thing and it wasn't like it was polite to just hang up on her."
"Polite?" Kuroro asked incredulously. "You?"
"She just wanted to know how you were doing," Feitan muttered. "And she was really polite. It's her accent, I swear. It makes you listen to her when she says something. It was impossible to hang up once she got started."
"Come on, Dancho," Nobunaga interrupted, saving Feitan from a lot more embarrassment, "she really still cares about you. That's got to count for something."
"She told a powerful mafia boss to kill us," Kuroro pointed out with what he felt was a great deal of reason.
"Yeah, but that's kind of flattering, isn't it?" Machi pointed out.
"Flattering?"
"She knew we could take it," Nobunaga agreed enthusiastically. "Bet you anything she knew we could take anything Basilio threw at us. She knows we're tough as fuck. There was no way those mafia thugs could really hurt us."
"But she still caused the deaths of Meteor City residents," Feitan pointed out.
"Yeah… but…"
The voices rose in argument again and Kuroro pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. Thoughts bounced about in his head, making it ache. Suddenly, he had no idea if he had the right to kill Midoya, or whether he even wanted her dead at all.
Could the affairs of life be counted that way, Kuroro wondered. Was it possible to decide that his accidental betrayal of their truce weighed as much as his saving her life when the Association had turned against her? Who decided what weightage each favour had? How was he to decide what the score was even if he did? Each individual weighed the various events differently.
As he sat there, barely listening to his Ryodan and trying not to scratch the ugly scar on his chest, Kuroro realised he needed to talk about this. He needed to discuss this issue with someone else, someone of the same intellectual level as him, someone who would consider all sides of the issue and give him a clear perspective of the problem.
Fortunately, he knew just the right person to speak to.
In the end, the need to talk about this perplexing problem overruled his body's need to rest. Ignoring his Ryodan's worried glances, Kuroro had insisted firmly that Shalnark get him an air ticket, and he get it now. Shalnark had tried to coax him back to bed with the promise of Leila Guranda's newest book. Machi had switched between arguing with him and trying to persuade him to listen to Shalnark. Franklin and Nobunaga had fretted in the background, one trying to reason with him and the other trying to shoo him back through physical means. Feitan chose the expedient method of simply picking him up and tossing him back to bed. However, Kuroro was not Dancho of the Ryodan for nothing, and within half an hour of being tied to the mattress, he had managed to sneak out of the base without anyone noticing.
Within hours, he had reached his destination. It was a startling contrast to the burning heat of Meteor City, with freezing, icy wind followed by freezing icy rain and then more freezing, icy wind. But he still made it to his final destination. The wind whipped at his weakened body as he fought towards the entrance. His hands were cold and numb, but he ignored them. The need to clear up the muddle in his mind was more important than the ache in his chest or the throbbing in his muscles.
With a final burst of strength, Kuroro heaved himself up over the edge and declared, "I have a problem I need to discuss with you."
Midoya, sitting at her grand piano, smiled at him and said, "Sure. Go ahead." Then, unlike his mutinous Spiders, she listened quietly while he told her the entirety of his problem.
Settling down on her orange couch, Kuroro accepted the cup of tea offered to him without interrupting his explanation. In fact, he talked for almost twenty minutes before he ended by saying, "And so I can't decide if I need to kill you or not. Do you see my dilemma here?"
"Indeed, I do," Midoya agreed, and Kuroro smiled, feeling vindicated.
"I knew it was absolutely necessary to talk to you despite what they said," he huffed. "Everyone always assumes I have complete control over my Ryodan. The truth is, once they've made up their minds on something, it costs me an arm and a leg, and then some, to change their minds. There is a reason I prefer to let them decide how to carry out missions themselves. Micromanagement is not encouraged when dealing with people as hard-headed as the Spiders. I would have to fight them every step of the way."
"I have no idea where they get that stubbornness from." Midoya smiled at him.
"Me neither," Kuroro complained, deeply aggrieved. "So, come now. Help me out here. Should I kill you or not?"
"Hmm." Midoya rubbed her chin. "Let me think about this for a moment."
As she thought, her fingers wandered over the piano keys in an absent-minded rendition of some kind of jazzy, bluesy song. Kuroro had always known Midoya was a musician; her roomful of instruments testified as much. This was the first time he had ever heard her play though. And she was good. Her technique was superb and she paid attention to each note and each turn. She could probably play professionally if she wanted to.
"It's a curious question raised by the Ryodan," Midoya said finally. "I must admit it never occurred to me to think of things the way they have."
"So you agree with them?" Kuroro asked curiously as he sipped the hot tea.
"I am not too sure, I must admit, though I suppose that the awareness that I was doing something bad was at the back of my mind," Midoya replied, smiling warmly at him. "I was fully aware that you would be angry. I believe you can count my betrayal of the Ryodan as a strike against me. Though I am not part of the Ryodan, I am friends with many of them, and I am fairly certain I put them in danger by telling Armando what I did."
"But you also believed Basilio would not be able to hurt them, nor did you allow any of your helpers, Kikita, Hisoka or Moonshine to truly hurt them," Kuroro intuited. "That counts as a strike for you."
"Yes." Her fingers wandered over the keyboard again as she thought. "Yes, that is true. I did go through some pains to avoid putting them in genuine danger. It was hard, especially since Armando knew the Ryodan was made up of Nen-users, to convince him not to deploy his Hunter mercenaries and to use normal mafia employees instead. I'm afraid I was only partially successful at that one."
A silence fell over them as Kuroro quietly listened to her play. "Midoya," he finally said, as her fingers trilled over the keys like birds dipping into a pond in mid-flight. "I know the details of some of the things that happened. I can guess at many. Will you tell me the whole story? I want to understand why things turned out this way… how things turned out this way."
The music stopped. "Alright," Midoya said quietly. "I can tell you. You deserve to know it. It's… a long story though."
"I have time," Kuroro murmured and sat back, watching her.
Now, Midoya took her fingers off the keyboard entirely. She turned around and leaned back, her eyes meeting yet avoiding his at the same time. "Kuroro," she said slowly, almost reluctantly, "when I was a child… I remember telling you this: I acquired the ability to use Gyo without any training. Do you remember me telling you this?"
"Yes."
"My father thought I was insane," she told him. "Well, both my parents did, but while my mother simply went hysterical with grief at the thought of her poor little Midoya being inflicted so early by the family curse, my father… he hated me. He loathed me. He detested me. He thought I was some kind of demon. He... well, I guess… he 'abused' me. If I ever, ever mention my ability to use Gyo, he would shoot me up with sedatives. I sometimes woke up discovering I have lost days, even weeks."
Drugs as a form of control. Kuroro had seen that before. It was never a pretty sight.
"The drugs made things worse," Midoya continued, her voice calm and even, "I lost control of my thoughts. I started hallucinating… or maybe not. I'm still not sure what it was I saw when drugged to my ears but I believe I was truly insane then. So my father put me in a mental asylum, one he never expected me to ever leave." She smiled humourlessly. "But there was a problem. Mummy dear couldn't bear another child. She did conceive once more, but she suffered a miscarriage in the first trimester. The experience was… bad on her. I heard she was quite hysterical after that and was almost admitted into the institution herself. Either way, I was the last of the Kito line. Father needed to find a new heir."
"Basilio," Kuroro guessed.
"Yes," Midoya acknowledged. "It was a nice solution for him. Armando does have some Kito blood in him, but he is distantly related enough that if he had a child with me, the child wouldn't be too inbred. That was my role in his new will. Once I was of age, and by that I mean about twelve or thirteen, Armando was to visit me at the mental asylum at least four times a week for procreation purposes. I was to bear the next heir to the Kito estate, assuming I didn't turn out to be barren, but I was to never leave the asylum ever." Her smile barely changed but Kuroro knew her well enough to know there was more to the story than what she had said.
Briefly, Kuroro thought about questioning her, but changed his mind. If she didn't feel it had anything to do with his situation then he will trust her judgement. He nodded at her to go on.
"But there was a problem," Midoya continued, waving a hand in the air. "When Father made me heir to his estate, he had the Infinity Gem with him. But shortly before he wanted to make Armando heir, he lost it. That meant that no one was willing to accept Armando as heir. Father was furious, but there was nothing he could do. He decided then that the Kito line would end with him, and so he abandoned me in the asylum for years before his death led to my release. Truth be told, even now, I am still listed as officially insane in my medical records." Midoya paused. "I killed him," she said nonchalantly. "I manipulated my uncle into killing him. My poor mother was collateral damage."
Midoya fell silent and the minutes dragged by. "Okay," Kuroro said finally. "I get the background picture, but that's just old history now and not really that relevant. How about more recent events?"
A laugh escaped Midoya and she shook her head wryly. "Dear Kuroro," she began then stopped. "Alright, more recent events." Crossing her legs, she pursed her lips in thought. "Armando, that dear boy, had been pestering the various estates in York Shin to support his takeover of the Kito estate for the longest time," she said. "Unfortunately, he didn't have a single shred of evidence that proved he was capable of becoming the Kito head. I, on the other hand, was listed in my father's will as heir and I am a direct descendent of the Kito family. That meant my position was safe for now. Still, I continued to keep an eye out for clues as to the fate of the Infinity Gem. It didn't matter to me if it remained lost forever, and I thought there was a good chance it would be. I knew it was stolen in Meteor City, and things in Meteor City tend to… stay there. You know how it is; resources are scarce in that country, anything taken in is taken in for good."
"Indeed, I do know that," Kuroro agreed. "Go on."
"And here's where the story gets complicated." Midoya got off the piano stool and came to sit next to him. His traitorous arm ended up around her shoulders as it pulled her closer to him. She was warm and he was freezing cold; he was just making use of her, he consoled himself. "Armando found a supporter," Midoya said, leaning against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He found several supporters in fact, in Agocchi itself, including Clemence Priduex, whom you have met. They all agreed that if he could find the Infinity Gem, they will do their best to overthrow me in favour of him. So Armando, like the stupid, brave boy that he is, announced he was going to find the Infinity Gem and prove once and for all that he is the righteous heir to the Kito estate." She shook her head and her hair brushed against his face. "Stupid boy," she repeated. "By announcing it like that, he opened up the floor for me too. If I could find the Gem before him, it would only solidify my position as Kito head for good. Even before he announced it, I was already on the move, looking for the Gem. Someone had leaked information to me prior to his announcement. Clemence claims it was her. Whatever the case, it gave me more time than I would have had to stake my claim."
"So you came to the Ryodan," Kuroro deduced. "The one group of people in the entire world who had half a chance of finding a tiny stone lost in the vastness that is Meteor City. Not only are we a powerful bandit group with a very resourceful Intel expert, we also belong to Meteor City. We know it like few do. We were your best chance."
"Yes," Midoya murmured, stroking the fur on his coat. "That is correct."
"How did you know I was the one who stole the Gem?" Kuroro asked. "Even I didn't know I stole the Gem.'
Midoya laughed. "I didn't know," she said, looking amused. "The report said that the Gem had been stolen by a little boy with dark hair. While three of his friends distracted the agents protecting the Gem, the boy snuck into the car, took the box and ran. I thought it would be cute if it was you, but I was never sure, nowhere near sure, until you confirmed it. Either way, it didn't matter. What I really needed was for Armando to believe the Ryodan stole it, and for you to believe that the only way to protect the Ryodan was to find the Infinity Gem and kill him."
The question had been burning in his mind for weeks now. "Why?" Kuroro asked, trying not to feel too betrayed until they could decide if he had been betrayed. "I still do not understand why you felt the need to trick the Ryodan and me like that. Could you not have just asked for help?"
Midoya gave him a look. "Would you have allowed me to put the Ryodan in danger?" she asked wryly. "Seeking the Infinity Gem meant going against Basilio anyway, the powerful head of a mafia family who runs in the same circles as Kurapika, the dangerous chain-user. Furthermore, it would require the Ryodan to fight Basilio for a purpose that will not benefit the Ryodan in any way. On the contrary, it will only put them in more danger than they already are. Knowing that, would you have allowed the Ryodan to help me?"
Franklin was right. Midoya had burrowed well into his skin. "No," Kuroro confessed. "I wouldn't have."
"There you have it. The only way to get the Ryodan to help me was to put the Ryodan in danger," Midoya replied with a slight inclination of her head. "I am sorry for what I did, for whatever it is worth, but I honestly did not have a choice."
"Was it worth it?" The question slipped out before his mind had fully processed it. But since he was already on that subject… "Was it worth it, putting my life in danger, putting my Ryodan in danger, to solidify your status?" he asked, gazing down at her. "Are you satisfied?"
Midoya looked him back straight in the eye. "No," she replied, "because it is not over."
For a moment, Kuroro almost leapt away from her in alarm, but she put a gentle hand against his wrist to stop him. It was surprising that even with what had happened, her touch was enough to still him.
Kuroro looked at her again searchingly. "Why isn't it over?" he asked.
"Because I didn't do it just to solidify my status," she explained quietly. "I did it for a goal that is never-ending. I did it because I cannot stop."
"What goal?" Kuroro asked insistently.
"Revenge," Midoya whispered, and her eyes glittered like diamonds in the dim light. "It was never truly necessary to find the Infinity Gem to solidify my status. As long as Armando died, I was certain the case would be over. But it's not enough if I wanted to take revenge against my father. That was my ultimate goal, Kuroro, to endlessly wreak vengeance on the man I hate the most. Father wanted to take my life from me, so I took it back. He wanted to break my mind, so I refused to break. He wanted Armando to live and take my place, so I killed Armando. And he wanted to take the Kito estate from me, so I refuse to give it up. The Infinity Gem was never meant to be mine, so I must have it." There was an odd glint in her eyes that disturbed Kuroro, for no matter how many times he had previously claimed she was crazy, this was the first time he had seen the gleam of real insanity in her eyes. "Do you think I am silly, taking revenge against a dead man?" she asked, and her laughter held the slight edge of hysteria. "I don't even know if I believe in the afterlife."
"I do," Kuroro told her. "When I finally die, I fully expect my soul to be torn apart by the souls of the thousands of people I have slaughtered in this lifetime."
That brought a faint smile to Midoya's face. "Has anyone ever told you that you can be very creepy sometimes?"
"It may have been mentioned once or twice."
The disturbingly strained look on Midoya's face lifted at that, and she smiled warmly at him, a smile he could not help returning. "So there you have my motive," she said, leaning against his shoulder.
Yes. Revenge. A motive she knew he would find more acceptable than greed. He had to wonder how much of what she had just said was the truth, and how much was truth twisted to fit his palate. "There I have your motive," Kuroro repeated. "And what do I do with all this? As interesting as your past is, it does not solve my problem at all. In fact, Midoya dear, you haven't given me an answer to my question. Should I or should I not kill you?"
To his surprise, Midoya burst into laughter again; warm, lively laughter that rang out clearly in the chilly night air. She laughed and laughed, and he was relieved when he heard only genuine amusement in it. "Oh Kuroro," she finally sighed when she stopped. "Kuroro dear, you are too precious."
"I know that," Kuroro said, though he had no idea what she meant by that. "So?"
"So… let me see, how shall I put this?" Midoya chuckled, "my answer is you can and cannot put a value on these little events in life."
"Midoya…"
"Hear me out." Midoya sat back from him and thought for a moment. "Sure, we can try to keep score," she said finally, "we can try to decide who owes who more. It is entirely possible. But, the problem, as you have hit upon, is that the value we give to each and every favour done differs. You saved my life half a year ago, Kuroro. That means more to me than it does to you. And now, I have betrayed your trust. That means more to you than it does to me, I assure you. So yes, we can keep a score, but your scoreboard will look quite different from mine."
"Ah." Kuroro rubbed his chin. "The problem of subjectivity."
"It's not a 'problem'," Midoya replied patiently. "We all value things differently; it's only natural."
"So, your conclusion is…"
"That you have to decide for yourself if you want me dead," Midoya replied with a shrug. "Don't think about whether you owe it to the Ryodan to get rid of the threat that is me. Think about whether I hurt you enough for you to want me dead. Look at your own scoreboard, not anyone else's. You wouldn't even have to think about it for long; it is an emotional response after all. You should already have your answer."
"Interesting response," Kuroro commented, and one that she must know appealed to the self-centred bastard in him, he admitted. Idly, he ran his fingers through her hair as he thought. So, what did his scoreboard say? Midoya had let him stay for free when he had been looking for a place to stay. But even if she had turned him down, he would have easily found somewhere else. Then, she helped him find the Jyonen-user. That had been a great help; she needn't have helped him that way. And then he saved her… But wait, he was naming big events that had happened to the both of them. What about the smaller things? She often did his laundry for him when he stayed with her. He cooked for her as often as he could. She was always willing to discuss whatever he was reading, and he would do the same for her. They always had wonderful sex together. He often ran errands for her, little things like going to the mart to acquire milk (the Ryodan way of course; it's a wonder how much money she saved when he did the groceries for her). She liked to buy gifts for him, little items that took her fancy. Sometimes, if she caught the whiff of something good going down in the black market, she would let him know. He made it a point to never attack businesses and properties that belonged to her.
How did one count up all of these things? Kuroro took a good look at his scoreboard and found it both too cluttered and too empty.
"I don't have anything on my scoreboard," he admitted out loud. "I've been rather negligent about it."
Midoya didn't look surprised. "I thought so," she said quietly.
"So I don't have an answer?" Kuroro wondered.
"Perhaps spontaneity would be a better choice in this situation," Midoya suggested. She held his hand, a gesture she did not do often. Outside of the bedroom, they were not necessarily very physical people. "Think about my betrayal, Kuroro. Remember every detail. Now tell me what you want to do."
Kuroro thought about her betrayal, thought about the way she had led him on and played him for the fool. He thought of their fight on the roof of the Basilio mansion, Midoya glowing silver under the moonlight as they danced together, a terrifying, exhilarating dance of life and death. And… "You know what I want to do the most?" Kuroro asked.
"What?"
"I want to do it again."
For a moment, Midoya raised her eyebrows at him, surprise, exasperation and amusement warring across her face. "Which part?" she asked finally. "The part where I throw a bomb at you, the part where I accidentally stab you in the heart, or the part where you almost drain me dry teleporting us to your comrades?"
"The whole thing," Kuroro confessed, smiling. " Midoya, the last time I was played so easily by someone I trusted was years ago, by Hisoka. I haven't had a match like this in a while. The chase after you, the fight with you, even just figuring out what your plan was… it was very delightful. I do not often find enemies who can match me plan for plan, or move for move. Midoya… I have to confess I truly enjoyed it."
Midoya's eyes glowed, a warm, gentle glow. "So did I," she demurred. "It took me months to work out a plan that would drag you in without you suspecting anything, but you caught on right from the beginning that I had my own agenda. Truthfully, taking you to meet Kikita and Aunt Annabella had little to do with killing Armando; I simply wanted you distracted by these odd personalities around us. Aunt Annabella is weird, even by my standards, so I was certain meeting her would shake even you up. And Kikita, she's loud and she's beautiful. She's a distraction just standing there. Not that it worked on you that well, I admit. I did not expect you to be so much more distracted by John then Kikita."
"That's why Kikita attacked me," Kuroro realised. "It was by your orders."
"Yes," Midoya confessed. "I figured if you fought her, you would spend half your time thinking about her powers and how to use them. She wasn't supposed to get that serious with you but you turned out to be too powerful for her to not take seriously. There was no helping it, I guess; I needed you to stay out of the hotel. I was meeting Hisoka that night."
"Was everything that happened in this mission by your orders? Did nothing happen that wasn't part of your plans?" Kuroro wondered out loud.
"No dear," Midoya said, though she laughed at his question. "For example, Hisoka dating Clemence was definitely not part of my plan. He was supposed to kill her, not get into some bizarre S&M relationship with her."
"Hisoka." The question he was about to ask made Kuroro feel like a man about try a strange, exotic dish that looked like it came out of a horse's behind. "Did you… sleep with him? I noticed the bed smelt like roses that night I killed Decimal."
Midoya's eyes flickered to meet his. "Was there blood on the sheets? Was my womb leaking out of my vagina? Did I have claw marks all around my body? Were there strangulation marks around my neck? Has my face been mutilated beyond recognition? Was I…"
"I apologise, Midoya, you don't have to sound so insulted."
"You just asked if I had sex with Hisoka. That is only marginally better than asking me if I had sex with a pervert who likes to stand outside an elementary school and flash little girls."
"I apologise again. You must admit, the fact that our bed smelt like him…"
"That was because he was sitting on it when we talked." Midoyao sniffed with dignified hurt. "You were just smelling his bottom." They stared at each other for a moment as her words registered then Midoya gleefully added, "Nicholas."
Before he realised what was happening, Kuroro had already tackled Midoya, picking her up around the waist and throwing her back down onto the couch. She laughed delightedly and wriggled out of his grasp. Before she could get far, Kuroro pulled her back under him, accidentally taking an elbow to his face as he did.
"Ouch," Kuroro grunted and pressed his weight against her, forcing her to stay beneath him.
"Oof," Midoya said in response, laughing breathlessly. "You're heavy."
Kuroro smiled and gripped her wrists so he could hold her down as he nuzzled her throat. She laughed and shoved him. It wasn't a hard shove; she had hit him harder when in a playful mood before. But in this case, her gentle shove caused something in his chest to clench painfully, and Kuroro ended up sitting back, trying to breathe through the pain. After a while, he realised Nen was flowing into him, as gentle and as soft as a kitten's touch. Midoya's Nen, mixed with miniscule amounts of Moonshine's, Kikita's and Hisoka's. They must have contributed their Nen to keep her alive after she had almost died giving him hers.
The painful haze cleared and he looked at Midoya, her face smoothed with concentration as she gently pushed Nen into his body. "I still don't know if I want to kill you," he said seriously. "My head is filled with too many conflicting thoughts."
She smiled though her eyes remained close. "I am not surprised," she murmured. "It is a confusing matter, isn't it?"
"Mmm," Kuroro hummed in agreement. For a moment, they remained silent as she healed him gently, her fingers ghosting over the back of his hands. Very quietly, Kuroro asked, "Midoya, what does your scoreboard say?"
Midoya's eyes opened, glowing faintly with Nen. "My scoreboard," she said pensively. "Will you trust what I say?"
"Yes," Kuroro replied honestly.
Midoya nodded. "I think I couldn't have done anything else but what I did," she said evenly. "But I also believe that I have done something truly unforgivable to you. Your Ryodan is your world, and knowing that, I still put them in danger. I did not betray the Ryodan, not in the way you described it. I betrayed you."
Kuroro closed his eyes. "I do not know if that even bothers me," he said quietly. "I don't actually feel betrayed anymore."
"Maybe you should," Midoya said softly. Her hands lifted off his and he missed the warmth of her Nen immediately. Reaching into his pants, she pulled out his phone and started to dissemble it. As he watched with some degree of confusion, she pulled clear tape off his phone. "It's a device that stopped the Ryodan from contacting you," she told him. "It was meant to isolate you and make you vulnerable." Kuroro raised his eyebrows. "Kuroro…" Midoya began then stopped. "Kuroro…" she tried again. "I never meant to hurt you, but I did deliberately put you in the situation where you could get hurt. And… you did. That has to count for something. That is the one thing I do feel truly guilty about and I really am sorry about it."
"You are confused too," he realised. "You don't know where we stand."
"No, I do not," Midoya said softly.
"We are both confused."
"Yes."
It was possible, Kuroro thought, to forgive her. He wasn't angry with her, not anymore, and he wasn't hurt, not anymore. In a way, she was still the same Midoya he had grown so fond of. He had always known she was a very complex and complicated person, and knowing all these extra sides to her, realising that she might not be that far from insanity as he had initially believed, was not necessarily that hard to accept. But something had changed, hadn't it? Something must have after all this. How had they gotten back together after the one time he almost killed her? It was such a long time ago… he had left, hadn't he? He had left after one last visit and the reason he had left was because… he couldn't trust her anymore, couldn't trust her to be the same Midoya he knew. But they regained their trust in each other, didn't they? Could they do the same after this? He wasn't sure.
With a quiet sigh, Kuroro pulled Midoya over and kissed her on the lips.
"We should think about this," he said, lips still pressed against her lips.
"We should," Midoya agreed, gently kissing him back
"I'll contact you in a month's time."
"Alright."
Reluctantly, Kuroro pulled away from the kiss and met her eyes. They were dark and empty and so clear he could see his reflection in her eyes. Without another word, Kuroro got off the couch and left.
-break-
Two weeks later, a box arrived at the Ryodan base addressed to Kuroro.
Shortly after that, Midoya disappeared.
A/N: The end! Oh my, what a long story this turned out to be, but what a great deal of fun too. I hope this chapter explains some of the questions my dear readers have about why some things happened in certain ways. Certainly hope that the explanations are satisfactory and that the chapter was a good read. Thank you so much to those who have reviewed my stories. I know I say this all the time, but knowing someone out there appreciates my stories always encourages me to carry on. And since I obviously can't be so cruel as to stop the Series at this point, I hereby present to you the next instalment of the Series series: A Series of Romantic Burning Buildings!
Before I reveal the uber exciting (to me at least) preview to the next instalment, I would just like to say a few words about it. I'm sure most of you have figured out by now that the portions in italics in this story are moments from Midoya's past in a mental asylum. That would explain the 'Angst' rating of this story. As weird as it would be for me to say this (considering the fact that I invented this character myself), I suspect that Midoya's life as June Kito would contain much more pain and grief than genuine happiness. That's something I would like to explore more simply because it will be like writing an entirely new character. At the same time, if I do say so myself, all this angst is making me feel down. So, the next story is kind of a return to the genre of Humour/Romance/Angst. We'll get to see more of June Kito, always a dislikeable and tragic character, and Kuroro of course. There wouldn't be as much action but you can look forward to seeing the Ryodan and their Dancho being absolutely silly, because, as the saying goes, "Meteor City residents suck at romances simply because they know shit about how courting and dating works" – quote lunartick.
So, without further ado, I present to you the preview to A Series of Romantic Burning Buildings
Preview: A Series of Romantic Burning Buildings
Shalnark was sitting in his apartment, smashing in the head of the wicked Goblin King of Westshire when the call came in. Frowning, Shalnark glanced at the phone and wondered if it was something he could put off. But no, of course not. Very few people knew his personal phone number, and almost all of those people were Ryodan members. No matter what, Ryodan business was not something that he could just ignore.
Sighing, Shalnark paused the game and picked up the phone. "Hello," he greeted cheerfully, just in case it was Dancho on the phone. A torrent of incoherent babble that sounded nothing like Dancho greeted him back. "Slow down!" Shalnark protested. "Who is this and what is this about?"
"It's Nobu! Argh, fuck it! That's not important, you stupid dork! Shalnark! You've got to come back! Dancho's gone bonkers! He's gone motherfucking bonkers!"
Shalnark stared at the phone. "Have you been drinking, Nobu?" he asked warily. "I mean, most of the time, Dancho is a little insane anyway, even by Meteor City standards. What's new?"
"What's new? What's NEW?"
"That's what I asked!" Shalnark shouted. "Hurry up! I'm in the middle of a game."
"Fuck your game! Shalnark, you've seriously got to help us! Dancho's gone off to York Shin!"
"So?" Shalnark asked confusedly. "If he's going to York Shin, he's probably just looking for Kito right? If anything happens to him, Kito will take care of him. She did send those doctors over the last time so we know she wants Dancho alive – for now at least."
"Yes! No! I mean… Yes! Argh! No, you don't get it! She's doing the box thing and I think Dancho's pretty pissed off with her! I think he's going to do stuff to her!"
Shalnark frowned. "What 'stuff' are you talking about?" he asked patiently, because getting upset with Nobunaga only made him more incoherent. "You think Dancho intends to hurt Kito? Not to be mean or anything because I do respect Kito a fair bit, but is that really any of our business? If Dancho decides to kill Kito, I mean… really now… that's not something we should meddle with."
"It is if he took all the explosives we accumulated for her funeral!"
Now that got Shalnark's attention. "He took all of it?" he asked hesitantly. "We had an entire warehouse full. What does he intend to do with that?"
"I'm not sure! That's the problem!"
That was a problem indeed. "Nobu," he said very slowly, "what is going on?"
"It's the worst, Shal! She DUMPED him! She fucking dumped Dancho!"
Oh… no. Shalnark closed his eyes and slowly considered the possible scenarios before him. All of them involved a very obsessive and possessive Dancho with a hole in his heart running around York Shin doing very dangerous and very life-threatening things. Most of these scenarios featured Dancho standing in the middle of the burning city, cheerfully disembowelling anyone who came within ten feet of him. None of these scenarios ended well. "Nobu," he said calmly. "Start from the beginning and tell me what the hell is going on."
Finally, Nobunaga took a deep breath and started telling Shalnark what had happened. He talked about the box and the now missing Kito. By the time Nobu got to the part where Kito was no longer living at her old penthouse, Shalnark had gotten a very clear and very scary idea of what was happening at the moment.
"Okay, I got it," he told Nobunaga. "Listen, just keep it between the four of us first. I'm going to head to York Shin. I'll meet you guys there by tomorrow latest. I know where all our bases in York Shin are. We can probably locate Dancho quite easily if he goes to any of them and I'm pretty certain he will. It's too late for him now to organise something on his own, and without Kito to back him, he has very few resources in York Shin. So, just keep it together, okay? And wait for me."
"Okay," Nobunaga replied, sounding a lot more relieved. "Hurry, man! We're going to catch the flight now."
"I'll try," Shalnark promised. Hanging up, he stared sightlessly at the paused game. This was… not good. Was Dancho planning some kind of mass destruction? That was certainly what the acquisition of the explosives suggested. If he was… and if he was planning to wreck destruction on Midoya June Kito, he was essentially kicking over a very, very big bee hive. The consequences would be unimportant if the Ryodan was involved and if Dancho was in perfect health. However, with the Ryodan members scattered all over the globe and Dancho still recovering… the consequences of messing with her would be… disastrous.
Well, no point worrying about it. Quickly, Shalnark closed the game and started to load a webpage. The only thing he could do now was get to York Shin and hope Dancho actually had a plan in mind.