Chapter XXIII
"Meow."
A flip to another page.
"Meow."
Scratch, scratch, scratch against his pant leg.
"Meow?"
Finally, Chrollo looks up from his book and blinks at the small feline scratching against his shoe. It pounces on his foot and tries to scramble upwards to his lap, but the kitten slips and tumbles back to the floor like a ball of black yarn. The kitten, seemingly irritated, hisses at him.
He sighs and proceeds to ignore the little thing. "Leave me alone."
Pairo, as what Valtiel insisted to call him, mewls and ascends his leg again.
The name makes his blood boil. He could think of many creative ways to kill this little critter. Break his neck like a toothpick. Make it look like an accident. No one would know.
No one but Valtiel.
Unfortunately, it wouldn't be too easy to fool her now.
"You are a little stubborn one, aren't you?" Exasperated, Chrollo picks up the kitten by the skin of his neck and settles him down on the mattress with him. The kitten sniffs at his hand and meows louder. His eyebrow arcs slightly. "Has your mother forgotten to feed you again?"
It has been an inside joke between them that they are husband and wife, and that the little bundle of black fur and maroon eyes is their son.
Chrollo finds it ironic; he knows that perhaps one day, Valtiel may become a mother and have children of her own, but he would not, certainly not him. A home and a family are last in the priorities of a Class-A thief. Still, he is so amused that he plays along, acting the part assigned to him like a dutiful student.
The kitten pounces on his lap and curls his tail around himself. He meows again.
"She did, didn't she?" It is not the first time Valtiel has forgotten to care for her pet. She is very much occupied in refining whatever ability she conjured that even little Pairo is ignored, prompting Chrollo himself to clean after the thing and feed it. "Fine, then," he says, sighing, and picks up the cat.
"Val?" he calls out to the living room. Valtiel is seated before the ebony clock again, surrounding herself with a calm Ren. Pairo squirms in his arms and Chrollo shakes his head, slips in and out of the kitchen, and returns to the bedroom with a bottle of milk in his other hand.
This is ridiculous, he berates himself as he offers the bottle to Pairo. The panther cub eagerly laps at the milk, two small paws on the sides of the bottle. Chrollo leans back against the headboard, cradling the kitten in his left arm while his right reaches out for his book. He starts reading again and ignores whether the kitten is satisfied in his milk or not.
Outside, another rain starts to pour. It would seem that the rainy season has begun in this side of the world. He welcomes the perfect weather for coffee, books, and candlelight. He has in mind to light a few scented candles on his bedside table, though the impending idea of Pairo knocking down the candles and starting a house fire stops him from fetching his candles.
After a moment of silence, Chrollo peers down on the cat and finds him curled up again on his navel.
How troublesome. He shifts ever so slightly, careful not to disturb his slumber. He sets his book down and focuses on the small thing, wondering how something so small could be so aggressive and demanding. It's so quiet. The combination of the rain's pitter-patter and the kitten's soft purring lulls him to sleep.
The clock strikes eight in the evening. Valtiel releases her Ren and uses Zetsu instead, trying to recover from the little fatigue she still suffers from using damned Ren. She looks around the living room and expects to see Pairo in the cat tree Chrollo has stolen from a pet shop earlier this morning. To her surprise, there are no signs of the cat, and she stands and enters the bedroom.
"Danchou?"
Her surprise doubles to see Chrollo leaning on the headboard and on a plethora of pillows. His chin rests on the heel of his palm, his face turned to the side and his raven bangs covering half of his face. His mouth is open a little for soft, even breathing. A book lies open over his sternum.
Valtiel bends forward and leans close, finding him rather cute like this−when he is not smirking or plotting another heist behind a charming smile. She smiles then, brushing his bangs away from his serene face.
A soft mewl sounds from below. Pairo looks up at her, all round maroon eyes, and blinks.
She giggles and presses a finger over her lips. "Come," she whispers. "Let's not disturb Danchou." She takes the kitten and cradles him in her arms.
They return to the dim living room where a lone orange lamp shines from the corner. She sets Pairo on the carpet next to her and smooths down his velvety fur.
The kitten nips at her fingertips and yawns. "It's no time to sleep," she tells him, still whispering. "Now is not our time at all."
By the end of October, her Hatsu is finished.
Not as refined as she wants, but finished. That's what matters.
With little to no persuasion, Valtiel invites Chrollo out for a walk downtown. Despite his misgivings, since it is such a grey and damp later afternoon with an overcast sky, he dons his dark blue jacket and white scarf, and then follows her outside the house. Some of the neighbors are coming home from shopping, and so the alleged couple slip their hands together as they walk.
At the square, a few townspeople have gathered to watch a child puppeteer's performance. She is a small girl, perhaps around Warren's age, with curly brown hair and eyes. The couple admires her performance until she finishes; Valtiel offers her a bill for her show while Chrollo waits behind with his hands in his pocket.
"So, what are we doing here?" They sit again on their usual bench, open to the grey skies. A low thunder rumbles from a distance, and he is nowhere looking forward to get himself soaked.
"I have a surprise for you," she says, exultant.
"Oh?" He returns her bright smile, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. A cold wind blows around them, stirring his long hair and her dark green skirts. "What can you have in store for me?"
"I'll show you," she urges him. "Stay here, okay?"
He watches fondly as she rises from the bench and crosses the expanse of the square, stopping at the middle with the White Tower as her background.
Numerous people are passing by her without much thought of a young woman in an exuberant mood and buried in a thick white scarf. Across the field, the Danchou leans back on the bench and smiles, indulging her cheerful mood.
Above them, the rain starts to pour.
On cue, the townspeople gasp and panic. All are running in separate directions, desperate to search for shelter. Even Chrollo flinches under the rain's assault, but he does as he is bid; he stays on his seat and lets the rain soak him from head to toe, his hair plastered on the sides of his face.
Valtiel heaves a deep breath and concentrates on the ability she has long distressed to master. Her aura surrounds her like a steam under the rain. Then it pulses and turns into a deep shade of gold, and then−slowly−takes the form of a large sphere emitted from her body. The sphere continues to expand across the field, engulfing the townspeople still in search for shelters. Like men in a dream, their movements slow, exaggeratedly so, that Chrollo could see every little movement of their feet and even their clothes, fluttering sluggishly under the influence of Valtiel's aura.
Then his critical gaze is back on her, noting that she moves normally than the rest of the crowd. The golden sphere stops extending and everything trapped within moves so slow that it reminds him of watching a movie in slow motion. The rain that falls into the sphere, he also observes, is not influenced−continuously pounding down on the field, undisturbed.
The sphere dissolves, the people within resume their running.
Quick. Lithe. Normal again.
She gasps and shakes her head, burying her face in her hands as she tries to regain her composure. Migraine starts blooming behind her eyes, her vision swimming nauseously.
"Val." Chrollo joins her at the center, searching for her face. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." She pants and groans from the nausea. The water is on her eyes, the Danchou's face blurry in her sight. A chuckle slips from her when she realizes his damp, disheveled appearance. "You okay?"
"I am, though it has been a while since I stood under a rain." He shrugs off his jacket and places it over their heads for protection. "Would you tell me what was that all about?"
"How about you guess?" She shivers and tugs the jacket closer.
"Perhaps I will." He ponders for a moment, choosing his words, and then whispers them in her ear. His explanation is quick and concise, and when he leans back to study her face, she flushes bright red and he knows for sure that he has guessed right.
He chuckles then, proud of himself and of her. "Still, it is a clever idea," he praises her and pulls her against the length of his body.
Valtiel nestles close, only to bask in his warmth.
His lips press against her hair, and then travel downwards to her temple and ear. "My clever girl," he murmurs in a low, rapturing tone. "My clever, clever girl."
But when someone steps in his line of sight, Chrollo flinches and immediately disentangles himself from Valtiel. There, on the other side of the square, is a familiar face.
"Paku," he whispers.
Pakunoda takes a reluctant step forward.
"Danchou," she returns, her voice warm yet suspicious. She wears an elegant camel coat with a black inner shirt and leggings, paired with knee-high boots. Her blonde hair is longer, going past her shoulders. She carries a purple umbrella over her head. Her brown eyes dart from her leader to the Kurta girl in his arms. She musters another smile.
"And Valtiel, of course."
The younger woman beams at once. "Paku-san! This is a surprise! What are you doing here?"
"Danchou asked for my assistance in a side mission," Pakunoda answers, not missing the second when Chrollo steps away from the Kurta and dons his cold face again. She decides to let that pass−for now.
"I did not know anything about a mission." Valtiel turns to Chrollo for answers.
"I have no intentions of involving you," he says. "The mission is for Paku and myself, though if you wish to watch, I can grant you that."
She wrinkles her nose and holds up a hand. "No, thank you. You both enjoy your mission."
He nods and turns to his friend. "So, Paku, shall we discuss the details of the mission? We have a base for the time being. It should fit for the three of us."
"Of course." Pakunoda holds up her umbrella for the pair, but Chrollo brushes it off and leads the way back home, still under his jacket against the pouring rain.
"This would be fun," Valtiel whispers to Paku as they walk side-by-side. "How are the other Spiders?"
"Still the same." Pakunoda's voice grows cold, though she does smile at the Kurta. "Still idiots."
They do not speak again as they reach the house. Chrollo fetches the keys and fumbles with the door.
When it opens, a massive blur of black hurls itself into his arms. He grunts and sighs, almost forgetting the fact that they have a 40-pound black panther cub living with them. Pairo has grown from a little rascal to a thundering whirlwind, sleek and lithe yet as big as a police dog.
The almost two-month-old feline growls as he sniffs at Chrollo's damp hair and collar, as if searching for hidden treats. When he finds nothing, he growls yet again and bombards the man with little nips along the jaw and shoulder, his long and sharp claws digging into the flesh of his forearms.
Valtiel emerges behind Chrollo and coos at her kitten. "That's bad manners, Pairo," she scolds and nuzzles her nose against the black fur. The kitten purrs and licks at her nose and mouth, making her laugh.
Confused yet interested, Pakunoda steps into the panther's sight.
Almost at once, Pairo's ears flatten to the back of his head and he hisses, menacing and full of threat. He struggles against Chrollo's hold and slashes sharp claws towards Paku, but the Spider leader whisks him away in time. The kitten yowls and takes his frustration out by biting at Chrollo's shoulder.
"Bad," the man says, scolding him. "Very bad, Pairo."
The panther seems to understand the harsh reprimand. He pounces out of Chrollo's arms, rubs his shiny black coat on Valtiel's legs, and hisses once at Pakunoda's direction−before disappearing into the bedroom.
Pakunoda laughs. "He's so cute."
"He's a bad cat," Chrollo grumbles, uncomprehending why his friend should find him so entertaining. "With bad manners, like Val." He tosses his damp jacket and stands at the threshold of the bathroom. "Make yourself comfortable, Paku. This is your home, too." And he shuts the bathroom door.
"Really, he should have told me you were coming." Valtiel, still damp from the downpour, paces back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. She tugs at the loose ends of her ponytail. "There's no proper food in the fridge and Pairo already finished this afternoon's lunch! Danchou! You should have told me someone's coming! I could have prepared a proper meal or two!"
"I'm fine," Paku muses, very polite. She sits on the couch and admires the domesticated lifestyle, from the vintage paintings on the walls, the fireplace with several vases and music boxes on top, and even the great ebony clock beside it. For someone either used to Meteor City's lodgings to a five-star hotel's king suite, this is truly a new sight for her. She wonders what the other Spiders might think.
Across from her, the Kurta is still worrying that Paku laughs to ease her anxiety. "I am fine, really, Val," she promises. "I just came from an afternoon snack at the airport. And dinner is still a few hours away."
"But what will we have for dinner?" Valtiel exclaims, ashamed to treat their guest without proper hospitality.
"We can order something from a restaurant," the Spider suggests.
"I suppose," Valtiel murmurs. It has been a while since she and Chrollo dined outside, the last time being out of town and him flirting with Nicola throughout the entire dinner. She has made sure over the months that she would not agree for another dinner if the Danchou plans to entertain someone else again.
"Where'd he come from?" Paku points a finger to where Pairo is stalking them behind the couch.
"Oh, Danchou stole him from somewhere." She frowns at the memory of it, but still grateful that he brought the kitten to her. "I needed something alive to practice my Nen ability with. You could say that Pairo here is my partner."
"I see." But she does not see, not really. Pakunoda could not imagine a universe where Chrollo Lucilfer steals a black kitten for the sake of one woman, who is his own plaything. The idea is laughable at best: a plaything for a plaything. Surely, the Danchou is amusing himself by doing such.
Valtiel sits cross-legged on the floor and Pairo curls up on her lap. She strokes the shiny coat, making the feline purr, its maroon eyes closed in contentment.
"How is your Nen training? Feitan told me you were making good progress."
"He did?" Her face lights up, never expecting in a hundred years that Feitan would compliment her.
"Though he says you still need a spine to actually fight people," Paku adds.
Her shoulders drop in defeat. Foolish. Of course, Fei-san would not compliment me. Then she faces the Spider again and tries to smile. "It is good to hear from him. He did teach me some techniques and supervised my training session with a monk for two months. It had been fun."
"Fun to train with Feitan?" Paku sounds incredulous.
Valtiel grins, and Pairo blinks maroon eyes at her. "Not entirely with Fei-san, but it was nice to have someone else around. It has only been Danchou and me for months. I'd be damned if I would not recognize his face or voice anytime, anywhere." She trails it off with another laugh, though this one is weak and shallow, uncertain even.
Then, Chrollo appears from the doorway and gives her a sudden sharp look. However, his voice is still low and quiet when he says, "It's your turn, Val," before heading towards the bedroom. Pairo rises and ambles next to him, and slips into the room as Chrollo is closing the door.
That night, they dine on Pakunoda's cooking: smoked meat with beans and pickles, a vegetable paste of eggplants, peppers, and onions, meatballs mixed with garlic and spices, and a beef soup to complement the rainy weather.
They are very much like a family when they are seated together at the table, sharing the food and sharing stories, though it is mostly Pakunoda and Valtiel speaking while Chrollo falls into his usual quiet self. He agrees to some statements, adds some comments, and then lapses to his own world again, forgetting his half-finished meal.
After dinner finds the three of them in the living room, warmed by the fire in the hearth. Chrollo is on the long couch, one arm stroking along Pairo's coat as the panther stretches and sways his tail in satisfaction. Across from him, Valtiel is seated on the floor, back turned to Paku, as the older woman brushes her long platinum-blonde hair down her back.
In this comfortable silence, Pakunoda starts her inquiry. "Where did you get Pairo's name?"
Chrollo, pleasantly quiet, glances from the ancient bible and dictionary in his hands.
"I thought it was fitting," Valtiel whispers, eyes on the red-orange flames. The lurch of the flames mesmerizes her, enchants her. "I remember a language used, like Norden or Tongusic. I figured 'pairo' would suit a black panther, for it means 'starlight', you know."
"Yes, it does fit him." Brown eyes search for Chrollo's grey ones. They exchange suspicious looks, and the latter nods. Pakunoda keeps brushing the hair. "I dind't know you have a knack for languages. How is it that you know so many, Val?"
Valtiel hesitates, shaking her head, the silky strands of her hair slipping from Paku's fingers. "I don't know," she murmurs softly, lost from her inquiry. "I remember other tongues because I've come across them several times… but I have never once crossed a text written in Kurta before…"
Again, the exchanged glances. The shadows in the room make Chrollo's face darker, more foreboding. Pakunoda pities the Kurta girl, whose next answer would decide whether she lives or dies.
"Though I might have encountered it back in Meteor City," Valtiel continues, oblivious to the tension around her. She gestures with her hand and Pairo answers her call, leaving Chrollo and joining her on the carpet. She smiles as she lets the panther cub lick at her palm. "I quite remember Shalnark-san's collection of books back home. Fei-san has some art books, too, right? It must have been from one of them; I really could not think of any more connections to the Kurta than books and the Scarlet Eyes."
"Scarlet Eyes?" Pakunoda's fingers tense from braiding the hair.
"Why, yes." Valtiel turns with her bright eyes gleaming under the influence of the flames.
Instead of the usual gold, it appears as if the gold and the orange flames have mixed to create an iridescent scarlet. She blinks at the female Spider, cocking her head to the side.
"Is that not why the Phantom Troupe raided the Kurta Clan, for their Scarlet Eyes?" Valtiel shrugs and goes back to staring at the hearth. "I could imagine myself assisting you guys to locate the clan's whereabouts; they were reclusive, weren't they?"
"You did help us," Pakunoda lies, unable to think of any other excuses. She searches for Danchou's approval, and he gives her another silent nod. With his permission, she adds lie after lie: "Shalnark had troubles understanding the map from the Hunter Website, so he asked you to translate the words and thus helped us track them down."
"I imagine it went that way," Valtiel agrees. "And then I had an accident on a cliff."
"Lost your memories, but you have them back now." Pakunoda weaves a purple silk ribbon with the hair and finishes with a fishtail braid. She lets it over Valtiel's right shoulder and smiles kindly at her. "Your memories are very precious, Val. I am happy you remember not only the Troupe, but also your past in Meteor City. Your grandfather must be proud."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
Like parents to a daughter, Chrollo and Pakunoda stay up until Valtiel is fast asleep on the bed. Pairo jumps next to her and nestles amongst the pillows, his large head over the woman's shoulder, his tail swaying back and forth over her legs. Her first display of Hatsu and her continuous interaction with Paku must have drained her so much that she has no time removing her scarf and shoes. Chrollo does it for her−attentive as always−while Paku leans on the doorframe and watches the scene unfold with earnest curiosity.
He finishes and closes the door. He leads her back to the living room and sips from his coffee. "So?"
Pakunoda weighs her words carefully. One wrong word could disappoint him. "She's in excellent condition," she answers, as if answering to an inquiry after a horse in a stable. "I interrogated her as thoroughly as I can, without arousing suspicion, and her memories are pure."
"Please don't mince words with me," he says in a silent warning.
She flutters long lashes at him. "I mean to say that she still has no memories of her real past. Everything she remembers is nothing but our childhood and Meteor City. When she mentioned about the Kurta Clan, her memories show books and maps, not her forest home or friends. And the mention of Pairo−" She purses her lips−"Val's memories show only stars and midnight skies. No more, no less."
He sips his coffee again, lips pressed against the rim. "So you are telling me that she remembers the language by itself, not the person associated with the term?" he asks, and she nods. "If I ask her to translate a text written in Kurta, would you assure me that she remembers nothing but the linguistics, and not the culture into which she was born and raised?"
"Memories are a complex thing, Danchou," she explains. Who knows better about memories than Pakunoda herself? She has lived a life toying with people's memories, extracting them without their consent for her benefit. For the Troupe's benefit. She would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the thrill of it.
"In retrograde amnesia, the only ones affected are the individual's memories. As such, their natural talents−singing, painting, fighting−would remain untouched, though their approach to these talents might be somehow affected depending on the individual's personality.
I could see that your indulging Valtiel in reading extensive books triggers her mind to remember a certain event in her past when she could understand these languages. That, and partnered with the Desaran monk's Nen ability, it further blends the memories in her mind. I understand that you might be a little anxious, but there's nothing to worry about. Her memories are still yours to manipulate."
Chrollo sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "That's a relief," he says.
"Is that why you asked me to come here? To check on her?"
"By all means, no." He gives her a small smile. "I have in mind to steal something. You and Val would help me accomplish it."
Valtiel blinks at her reflection on the mirror. She brings the tips of her hair forward and muses how short it has become, allowing Pakunoda to trim her and Chrollo's hairs to suit their mission tonight. Now, the platinum-blonde hair that once brushed her waist falls to the middle of her back. Paku has dressed her hair to an up-do, pinned to the side with a small diamond hairpin.
Seated on his haunches, Pairo stares up at her appearance and yawns.
"Not very impressed, are you?" She laughs, turning away from the mirror with a swish of her navy blue evening gown. She has a pair of silver diamonds on her ears, and another glittering bracelet of diamond around her left wrist. "Well, this is only for tonight," she assures him, but also to assure herself.
"We're finished." Pakunoda emerges from the bathroom where she and Chrollo have been closeted for half an hour. She wears a low cut burgundy gown with a slit on the skirt, hiked up almost to her hip. Her ample breasts are pressed atop of the gown, invitingly so. Her short blonde hair is pulled up into a simple bun, with her bangs framing the sides of her face.
Paku smiles at her, and, like a mother, fusses over the younger woman's gown. She tugs at Valtiel's top, pushing it ever lower, and then tightens the laces from behind so that the curve of her breasts shows.
Horrified, Valtiel pulls the fabric higher and tucking her skin out of sight. "It's fine like this."
The Spider shakes her head. "It has to be lower, Val," she says in a kind voice. "It's not as alluring if you do not show enough skin. It's a party, not a funeral." She chuckles when the young woman wrinkles her nose. Clearly, she is unconvinced. Whatever else does Paku have to do to persuade her?
And then there is Chrollo Lucilfer himself in an all black ensemble. His raven hair is trimmed, neat and complimenting his youthful face. Somehow, the shorter haircut makes him look younger than his twenty-one years. He adjusts the black necktie over his black shirt, dusts off his black sleeve.
Valtiel makes a face at him. "I thought you said it's not a funeral."
"It would be a funeral once we finished killing everyone," Chrollo teases. He nods at their appearances, but then notices that the two women are in the middle of a disagreement. "Is there something wrong?"
"She wouldn't want her top lower," Paku says, a little defeated.
"Would you now?" Dark eyes gleam at Valtiel. She shrinks back from his obvious mirth. His sight rake over Valtiel's gown and exposed skin, nodding again like reviewing a horse on sale, and turns to Paku. "I think she's fine as she is. Better to have you two look different from each other, so Fujiwara can take his pick."
"As you say." Paku withdraws her hands from the Kurta and makes one last adjustment to her gown. She slips a golden bracelet while Chrollo shrugs on his black dinner jacket.
They are walking towards the door when Pairo meows and scratches against the nearest furniture.
Chrollo glances at the black kitten. "Stay," he says, as if commanding a dog. Pairo's maroon eyes stare up at him in wonder, and then he stretches across the carpet and purrs. Chrollo nods. "Very good."
The plan is simple, though Valtiel still worries about the execution. A certain Fujiwara is a patron of Treasure Hunters who is hosting an evening gala tonight in his summer house, built on the edge of a cliff and overlooks a wide lake. Chrollo managed to acquire invitations for the three of them, all different names; it is surprising for Valtiel that they are not posing as a couple tonight. Instead, they are in their own, flowing where Fujiwara's interest would go.
The night is cold and the air carries a heady scent of flowers that are in still blossom for the autumn season. Several limousines are already parked at the mansion's front, each more extravagant than the last. Pakunoda is first to arrive, all long legs and unblemished porcelain skin. She is a tall woman, even taller than Chrollo, and she uses that advantage to immediately attract the attention of several men. It works wonders: by the time she enters through the main entrance, she has a flock of men's eyes following her smooth movements.
Valtiel comes next, emerging from the limousine, clutching at her blue skirts. The evening chill makes her shiver, sending goosebumps across her exposed back and arms. A steward steps forward to assist her, and she smiles, accepts his hand, and enters the mansion.
Once he has confirmed his companion's safe entry, Chrollo waits another ten minutes before exiting himself. Unlike Paku, his appearance does not garner attention from the men, though as he pushes further inside and steps into the ballroom, the women giggle and whisper behind their gloved hands.
He smiles at each of them, not interested at the least, and takes himself on the second floor where he could watch the party from above. He spots Pakunoda conversing with a man, clinking wineglasses with him. On the far side of the room, there is Valtiel with another man. He presses his lips into a thin line and says nothing.
The plan is simple: attract Fujiwara with either of the two ladies, though it is much more convenient for them if he goes after Pakunoda, whose experience with men is precise. Fujiwara is supposed to be seduced, take Paku to his quarters, where she could interrogate him about the whereabouts of the treasure.
The plan is indeed very simple, but when Fujiwara himself makes a grand entrance on the other side of the room, perhaps it is not so simple any longer.
Ryuhei Fujiwara is a tall, handsome young man, with pale blond hair and striking green eyes. He wears a white suit with an ascot tie, pinned to his throat by a glimmering emerald. He enters alone and strides gracefully to the dancefloor, where he smiles and laughs upon seeing old acquaintances.
Chrollo rolls his eyes at the other man's flaunting and searches for Pakunoda in the crowd.
As expected of a Spider, Pakunoda glides across the ballroom and makes her way towards Fujiwara. Her movements are slow and sensual, attracting more eyes, drawn to the swell of her breasts and the exposed skin of her left thigh. She takes a wineglass and takes a sip, calculating Fujiwara's descent as he plunges deeper into the crowd.
"My, my…" Fujiwara croons at Paku, green eyes flitting from her burgundy gown and dark blonde hair. He taps his chin, reminding Paku of their Danchou when he finds something beautiful. "Who do we have here?"
"Hilde Drewanz, Fujiwara-sama." She bobs him a little curtsy, leaning forward so that Ryuhei could see the tempting curve of her breasts. Behind a charming smile, she thinks of gouging his eyes from their sockets, for staring at her. She glows at the idea, excited even.
"You know my name?" he asks, surprised. Then smirks. "You asked someone about me?"
"It is not at all subtle, I know," Paku murmurs, her long lashes sweeping her cheeks.
Ryuhei steps forward and lifts her chin with an index finger. "You are very pretty."
"You flatter me, sir."
"Shall we dance, my lady?"
"I would be honored, Fujiwara-sama." She takes his hand and feigns another smile when he laughs and urges her to call him by name. "It would be disrespectful," she says. "You are a respected individual after all."
"True," Ryuhei agrees, not at all humble.
A music starts and fills the entire ballroom. Ryuhei and Pakunoda are locked in their own world, hand-clasped, bodies so close together. He is an excellent dancer, and she follows his lead with calculated movements. Her hand in his allows her Nen ability to see through his latest memories, and it quite disgusts her to know that this young man has been with another woman moments before he stepped into the ballroom. She just wishes he would simply take her to his quarters, steal his treasure, and be on her merry way with Danchou and the Kurta in their cozy little house.
As the music ends, Ryuhei slows to a stop. Suddenly, his eyes are not on Pakunoda anymore. He looks far behind her, to the corner of the room−to a lone young woman standing by the open window and admiring the pristine lake behind the house.
"Excuse me." He sidesteps Paku and crosses the room.
Chrollo could see his hurried movements as Ryuhei shoulders the other guests to get to his Kurta. Glowering, he finds Paku and meets her own scowl.
The target is not cooperating.
With a little nod, Chrollo turns for the staircase to join Paku on the floor.
Valtiel has been admiring the way the lake shimmers under the moonlight, when she feels someone's presence pressing through the crowd. Through the reflection, she sees a young man in a stark white suit approach her. She frowns and braces herself for an idle conversation; this is their target; if he is not with Pakunoda, then it is better for him to be with Valtiel, rather than with another woman.
She rounds towards him, a smile in place. "Good evening, sir."
Ryuhei strides to her with cunning grace. "Good evening, my lady. I see you are quite alone."
She shakes her head, the diamond in her hair catching the moonlight. "I like being alone with my thoughts."
"I have never seen you before," he notes. He leans against the glass and smiles down at her. "It seems tonight I keep meeting new faces. That is good, very good. I am elated to see so many beautiful faces."
"That is very nice for you," she says. "I could not think of any other beautiful face than the lady with the burgundy dress." She hopes that would be the end of it, reminding him of Paku and making him leave her.
Instead of leaving, the bastard chuckles and steps behind her−as what Chrollo has done so many times−and rests his chin on her right shoulder. His hand darts from his side, gently forcing her to face herself on the window, her reflection showing wide golden eyes and pale skin. Ryuhei's low chuckle against her ear sends shivers down her spine.
"There," he whispers, low and husky. "I see another beautiful face."
"Ah, the face of a nobody," she quips, sarcastic.
"No, no, not at all." Ryuhei proceeds to turn her around to face him and lifts her chin to his emerald gaze.
Across the ballroom, both Chrollo and Pakunoda are glowering. Their target is on the wrong side of the plan, glued to the wrong woman. Although Chrollo did bring Valtiel along to cater whatever Fujiwara's tastes are, it still baffles him that he should rebuke Pakunoda's advances. However, men have a wide array of tastes−he understands that−and does not hold it against Fujiwara. Still, he should be taking Paku to his quarters, not tugging at Valtiel's hand and forcing her with him.
Paku stands tall beside him, her brown eyes locked on the two figures by the window. "So, Plan B?"
Chrollo nods. "You will take Fujiwara; I will take Val. Make sure he keeps you this time."
"Roger that."
And they set into motion.
"Fujiwara-sama," Pakunoda calls out. Ryuhei blinks and chuckles, as if he has forgotten about her. "Would you take me for a tour around the house? I believe you promised me while we were dancing."
"A tour, of course." Ryuhei clears his throat and studies Paku from head to toe again. His eyes linger on the charming curve of her lips as she smirks at him.
Then he steals a glance at Valtiel, soft and petite, with a shadow of a scowl in her face. He decides that he likes Pakunoda's openness rather than Valtiel's sneering. With another laugh, he intertwines his arm with Paku's and leaves without another word.
Once the pair disappears behind a door, Valtiel relaxes and thumps her head on the glass.
"Stressed?" Chrollo walks over to her, eyes lingering to where Paku disappeared.
"Try distressed," she snaps at him, and he laughs. "He is supposed to approach only Paku-san."
"Well, you caught his attention." He stands in front of her, shielding her from the other stares from the male guests. He believes they are betting who gets to approach her first, like the gambling snakes that they are. One particular guest keeps such a lewd stare that Chrollo has in mind to shove his dessert fork down his throat for a well-deserved lesson. That can wait−for now.
"What should we do now?" She tilts her head to the side. She is in an elegant gown; he is in his all-black ensemble. Though it would be a waste of fine clothes, she hopes they can go home soon.
"How about a dance?"
"How about no?"
He shoots her a quick indignant look. "Fool," he mumbles.
She rolls her eyes at him and observes the dancing crowd. "Do you think Paku-san would be all right? Fujiwara-sama seems like a total halfwit, falling for such advances, but he has the looks and the money."
"You find him good-looking?"
"He has lovely eyes," she answers, honest to the core. "I can see why many women would desire him."
"And you don't?" He raises an eyebrow.
"He's a halfwit," she reiterates. "Falling for a lame tease."
"Men are easier to persuade when they are half-delirious with desire," Chrollo explains. "Easier to manipulate, especially for women. I brought you and Paku to test his tastes: Paku for sensual beauty and charm and you for−" He pauses, bites his tongue, and shakes his head−"for innocence and softness." He clears his throat, glancing down on her face. "You did well. You almost caught him for yourself."
Valtiel shudders. "I can't decide which one is worse: to be chosen or to be left behind."
He chuckles and weaves an arm around her waist. His hand settles on her hip. "If Fujiwara had chosen you, then he finds you more attractive. If you are left behind, then you stay with my pleasant company and me. I think the compliment goes both ways, no?"
She sighs. "Perhaps. I would rather stay behind than suffer his advances. Thank goodness Paku-san is more beautiful," she says dreamily.
"Perhaps," Chrollo mumbles.
It is almost morning, when Valtiel wakes up in Chrollo's arms. She opens her eyes in time to see and feel him gently laying her down the bed. She must have fallen asleep from waiting for Pakunoda to return from her trip to Fujiwara's quarters.
Slack on the mattress, she feels Chrollo remove her high heels and remove the ornate hairpin in her hair, releasing the thick tumble of silver-gold across the pillows. Then she feels warm lips on her forehead, and the gentle pull of a blanket over her body. In her sleepy vision, Pairo jumps up to the bed and joins her, his low purring lulling her back to sleep.
She wakes again when the clock strikes. Pairo is bombarding her with eager licks on the eyes and mouth, and she pushes him away with a laugh. She sits up on the bed, finding herself in a soft nightdress, as the panther cub mewls and sniffs at her hand.
"Hungry?"
Pairo yowls.
"Food it is." She rises from the bed and heads outside, where she sees Chrollo and Pakunoda sharing breakfast at the small table. She smiles at them, the early morning sunlight in her face. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Chrollo murmurs behind his coffee mug.
"Come. Sit." Pakunoda clears a space for her and prepares a new set of plate and silverware. "I prepared scrambled egg with grilled mushrooms and a garlic sauce. It's Yuan's favorite dish."
Valtiel joins them at the table and hums at the delicious breakfast. She loves Pakunoda's cooking. If only Paku could stay with them from now on.
As she eats, she notices a large golden head sitting on top of the fireplace. It is a head of a monkey, solid gold, with wide eyes and open mouth.
Pairo arrives in the living room, playing with a pair of round rubies.
"What is this?" Nervous, Valtiel goes to the monkey head and pales. It has two green eyes.
"The Monkey King," the Danchou answers in his gentle voice. "Unearthed by Fujiwara's Treasure Hunters from the ruins in western Kakazan. Claimed to be the emperor's most favorite possession due to its solid gold head and ruby eyes that are said to make humans mad with greed. Pairo seems to enjoy them."
The panther cub bites down on one ruby, while his big paw claws at the second.
She gulps, pointing an index finger on the eyes lodged into the monkey's head, the golden rim stained with dark dried blood. "And these eyes are…?"
Chrollo smiles sweetly. "Ryuhei Fujiwara's eyes. I seem to recall you telling me he has lovely eyes."
Author's Notes: Oof! Sooooo sorry for the extremely late update! I have had this chapter made for already so long, but the combination of work and stress and laziness to edit the chapter took me an entire month! Thank you all so very much for your patience! I can't imagine how patient you guys are while awaiting for an update!
We've got Chrollo and Valtiel with Pakunoda this time 'round. A side mission, a bit of fluff, and another dose of Chrollo's bitter scheming at their finest. I thoroughly enjoyed writing Pairo the Cub. Just imagining Chrollo babysitting a kitten makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm glad this handsome bastard hasn't made any efforts harming this kitten just because of his name... because let's face it. Chrollo is THAT kind of person to kill willy-nilly.
I'm 2 hours away from packing my stuff and leaving for a vacation to the beach... so I'm sad to say that I wouldn't be able to answer everyone's reviews from the last chapter. It's been a whirlwind of a month and now I'm supposed to be going on a 9-hour trip to the beach! Still, I'll be thinking of all of you guys while I am in vacation! I'll be certainly looking forward to your reviews to light up my vacation even more!
Many, many special thanks to: Amy, xenocanaan, HuangShaotian0005, Mia Mena, ChroVal, Coolfire30, Eric, Donchta, SuperLllou, AwkwardBlackCat, and PLEASE UPDATE. Thank you all for the reviews, and thank you to everyone who keeps reading this story.