Chapter XXXV

Five months later

"Have you ever asked someone out?"

"No, have you?"

"Well, no." Thomas frowns as he scratches his brown hair. "I know some basics though. Flowers, chocolates, fancy dinner somewhere in town. Good music and dancing−"

"Dude." His co-worker, Oliver, throws his head back and laughs. "Girls don't like that anymore! That's too old-fashioned! What are you, a fifty-year-old man?"

Thomas makes a face and sighs in defeat. "If you're so smart, what are you going to do since you've never asked someone out before?" he says with a challenge.

Oliver leans back on his seat and taps his chin, as if thinking. "I guess, for starters, instead of taking her out to old-fashioned dinners, just take her out to have a good time. You know−bars, clubs, movies, anything along those lines. What you were suggesting are so cheesy, not to mention corny."

"You think?" Thomas sighs, deflating.

"Well, who knows?" Oliver shrugs, not really caring. "Why don't you just ask her out? Like, upfront?"

"And get rejected on the spot? No way!"

"Then you're on your own, buddy." With a mocking smirk, Oliver taps his friend on the shoulder and delves himself back on his thick pile of paperwork.

After a while of pondering in silence, Thomas's hazel eyes notice the ancient books stacked on the corner of his desk, and he brightens at an idea. He grabs the books, ignoring Oliver's inquisitive gaze, and walks out of the well-lighted room to proceed to the upper floors.

He feels quite a bit dreadful as the elevator comes to a stop, opening to reveal a sun-kissed hallway with glass roofs. The archives room is only at the end of the hallway, but it feels so far, not to mention that he is already pale and sweating in his office polo. With a gulp, he crosses the distance and enters the room.

The archives room takes up most of the floor, with vaulted ceilings and marble columns. Bookshelves are pressed against the walls, leaving no space for anything else. There is a counter for the librarian at the front, followed by a wide space of long tables and chairs. Nearby, rows of the latest computers are lined up, their bright screens showing several ancient places as backdrops.

Thomas wounds his way around the spacious room and finds the exact person he is looking for.

She is seated on the farthest corner of the farthest table, surrounded by books, scrolls, quills, with a large open laptop on her left. Her pale hair is pulled up into a bun, pulled up away from her face and bright eyes. Either she is too busy to notice his approach, or she doesn't really care at all. Thomas gulps again, eyeing how she scribbles on a small notepad while her left hand types something on the laptop.

He clears his throat. "Uh, Miss Valtiel?"

When she looks up and smiles, his tension wavers away.

"You can call me just Valtiel, Thomas," she says, clearing a small space beside her. "Here. Sit. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could help with the translations of these texts?" he starts as he sinks on the seat she patted for him. "We received instructions from the boss, but Oliver is useless."

"You know how he is," she teases and checks on the hardbound books, the pages gritty and brittle. "But these are all well-done already," she notes and points to the title. "You don't need me to check if they're correct, because you have done well enough by yourself."

"R-Really?" His voice starts trembling again.

"Why, yes." She pushes the book back to him and blinks. Something in his countenance does not add up. She decides to leave her usual work for a while and turns her full attention on him. He fidgets under her bright gaze, and she blinks yet again. "What's the matter? Is there something you want to tell?"

"Ah, well, I mean−" Thomas digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I need your help," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I need your help," he repeats in a firmer tone. He clears his throat and straightens himself, giving himself the impression of resolve and determination. He looks at her straight in the eyes and says, "I need your advice is asking somebody out."

There's silence, and then Valtiel gives a little gulp of laughter.

Thomas groans and deflates again.

She reaches out for his shoulder, biting back another laugh. "Oh, I am sorry. I did not mean to laugh, not really. But I think you are asking the wrong person. Why should you ask me? Shouldn't you ask one of the boys instead? Oliver, perchance?"

"I told you, he's useless," he says. "And the others are no good either. I went to you because I thought maybe a woman's advice can actually help."

"You think my advice on dating can be actually of help?" She smiles again, more teasing, and he flushes beet red and clutches the curls of his brown hair. "Oh, Thomas, I'm kidding! But I do have an idea who you want to ask."

"You do?" He blinks.

"Might be." She casts him a sidelong glance as she fusses with her scrolls. "Do you want to ask her out for the upcoming evening gala? That's two weeks away, right? You have plenty of time to set dates for each other. You should be prepared."

"I know, but I don't know what to do," he complains, whining. "Help me."

"Of course! Here." She drops her books along with those he brought along with him. She gathers her finished scrolls, cradles them in her arms, and leads the way out of the archives. Her blue-grey bohemian dress swishes outwards as she walks, fluttering over her legs.

"Wait." Thomas scrambles beside her, head peeking from behind the books. "Where are we going?"

"To her."

"Her?"

"In the office. Let's go!" She pulls him inside the elevator and pushes a button. As the elevator whirs downwards, she starts with, "Don't be nervous. She wouldn't appreciate it if you're nervous. And look at her in the eyes! You have beautiful eyes and so does she! Smile, too, Thomas. That's the best way to catch a girl's attention."

"But how am I supposed to ask her out on a date?"

"Did you not hear anything I said at all?"

"Well, yeah, but−"

"Oh! We're here!"

Again, she tugs at his hand and practically drags him across the sunlit hallways, passing by few of the staff and smiling at their confused faces. She knocks once on the door, slips herself and the jittery young man with her, and shuts the door.

The boss' office is more like a president's office than a regular office. Paintings are all lined up on the walls, while abstract sculptures stand on either side of the mahogany table. A flag of the Hunter Association serves as a backdrop of the imposing table and carved chair. The wide glass window shows the town square below, its marble fountain and the townspeople passing by.

A young woman sits on the boss' chair, shuffling the paperwork.

Thomas's heart beats wilder, for she is the one he has been meaning to ask. His hazel eyes zone in on every inch of her appearance today: long black hair, round dark plum eyes, and black glasses. Today, she wears a black shirt and white leather leggings, paired with knee-high boots.

She looks up from the paper and smiles. "Oh, good morning."

"Good morning, Shizuku-chan!" Valtiel greets brightly, crossing the room and standing on the other side of the table. "I didn't mean to bother you while you are so busy, but I figured you would like to include these texts for the evening gala scheduled in two weeks' time," she says, getting right into the point.

"Oh, of course. I'd like to see them please." Shizuku holds out her hand.

"Thomas brought them all for you," Valtiel says, hands clasped behind her back and smiling innocently.

When Thomas does not move, awestruck as he is, she nudges him with her elbow.

The young man flinches and sets the books on the table. "A-Ah, yes, here they are, Murasaki-san." He swallows and glances at Valtiel, who inclines her head to the dark-haired girl. "Um, these are the eight-part collection of the myths and legends that the Hunters unearthed last week."

Shizuku looks amazed, her eyes sparkling. "You managed to translate everything?"

"Miss Valtiel here did most of them−"

"But Thomas always came around to check if they're correct," Valtiel interrupts after shoving an elbow against his side again. She gestures him to keep talking, but he shakes his head and Shizuku turns back to them. Valtiel beams at her. "And Thomas is currently helping me with some of the other texts found."

"That sounds incredible," Shizuku says, looking at them both.

"Oh, but I heard you are interested in Thracean, Shizu-chan."

"I am. They are a most interesting tribe of people. Warriors all, aren't they?"

"I can give you the project if you want," Valtiel suggests. "I need to focus on some other texts."

"Sure, that'd be great, Val."

"And Thomas here can assist you!" She grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him towards Shizuku, as in case she has not seen the quivering mess of a young man in the last five minutes.

Shizuku laughs and puts her hands flat on the hardbound texts. "Sure, you can come here anytime. I have just finished the rest of the preparations for the evening gala. I'll add these−" She pats the books−"to the list and be done with everything else. Thanks so much, Val."

Valtiel, still holding Thomas by the shoulders, shakes him a little.

The other young woman smiles. "You, too, Tobias."

After leaving Meteor City in the hands of Shalnark and Franklin and the school construction to Marsten and his group of engineers and workers, Valtiel travelled across countries with what little money she had left and came upon a small historical district in a rather small country. It was not particularly hard walking around the streets and asking for shelter and places to work, for the people were considerate and pointed her straight here−a museum, owned by a Ruins Hunter with Amateur Hunters as volunteers to help keep the treasures, texts, statues, and everything else in good condition.

In this place, Valtiel has found what she could call another home in the last five months. There are more than half a hundred people working in different departments, all volunteers, all friends of the museum's founder and benefactor who has not even showed up. Valtiel has not seen him. In fact, no one has for the past three years. Whoever he is and wherever he is, Valtiel admires the work he has in store for her.

She appreciates the museum, with its old-fashioned architecture in the middle of a historical town. It quite reminds her of the small town she once shared another home with Chrollo, with its flagstone pathways and the clock tower at the town square. She enjoys the quiet ambiance, the innate love of the people for books and knowledge that the museum is never truly unoccupied.

She loves this place. Still, she loves it more for another reason.

Beside her, Thomas heaves a deep sigh of relief. "I thought I was dead."

"You never did anything I told you," Valtiel scolds, one hand on her hip. "I told you to smile and not be nervous. You did nothing of that."

"It's hard to smile and not be nervous when you're in front of a girl you like," he counters, glaring a little. He fixes his silk necktie and smooths down his shirt. "You women always have it easy, expecting us men to do all the work and talk. It's hard, it really is. Like, you can't even imagine!"

"For sure." She smiles and heads back to the archives, her heaven.

"Have you never had yourself asked by someone?" He catches up to her, facing her as he walks backwards.

"Now that you've mentioned it−" She stares up at the painted ceilings−"I never think so."

Thomas does a double check on her. He stops in his tracks and squints at her. "You? No way."

She rolls her eyes, entering through the archives' double doors. The librarian, an elderly woman, smiles at the pair as they make their way back to Valtiel's previous workstation. "I'm not forcing you to believe me."

Then she takes her previous sit, drapes the skirts of her dress over the chair's side, and works on her laptop. Still, Thomas's eyes, wide with disbelief, are on hers.

"Impossible."

"What is?"

"You not getting asked out."

"Why?"

"Because girls like you and Shizuku are always asked out."

"And what kind of girls are we, Thomas?" she returns, eyebrow raised slightly.

"The kind that always gets asked out," he sputters, at a loss in the circular conversation.

She laughs and shakes her head, eyes returning to the computer screen. "If you're so adamant about your argument, why don't you ask me out yourself? That way I would be the kind of girl who does get asked out."

He gapes at her statement, and then turns a dark shade of red.

Blinking, she turns away from the laptop and frowns. "I made it sound so wrong, didn't I?"

"It really makes me wonder why I am asking for your help, Valtiel."

Her day ends where it always begins.

In the archives room.

Shortly after her arrival here, Valtiel found solace within the extensive place and its collection of books, smelling of old leather and dusty pages. It is almost like a sunroom, with windows and ceilings made of glass, refracting the sun in many different angles as it rises and sets. Everyone volunteering at the museum knows she has a designated spot on a certain table, faraway from the crowd where anyone could bother her. The librarians know her best, her co-workers much less, and Shizuku… Well, the boss' secretary knows her well enough but sometimes forgets her name.

She labors to be of help in the best way she can. The Amateur Hunters do the most work, disseminating the orders between departments. She follows their orders more gratefully than she had ever done to the Phantom Troupe. And when her work is done and the Hunters and volunteers are going home, her real work begins.

The Scarlet Eyes.

Despite the many researches, texts and even websites, she has not found any piece of information about the Kurta Clan before the massacre two years ago. Wherever she looks, she sees nothing but a wasteland, burned down by a forest fire. There are no images of the bodies, no records of anyone surviving.

Much less information is offered about the Eyes themselves, except for auction catalogs and offers for them. Valtiel has no need for the Scarlet Eyes; she has suffered transactions to sell them off. Moreover, she has no money for another pair that costs about half a billion Jenny.

She spends days and nights trying to unearth as much information as she could, but to no avail. The Kurta Clan were reclusive nomads. They had no permanent home and there are no records of their previous bases except for Lukso Province, where the Troupe had chanced them and slaughtered them. At times like these, once again in a dead end, she closes her eyes and caresses her head, wondering where this vast researching would lead her.

She is afraid to know. She is afraid that somehow, something does not add up.

A little girl from Meteor City. The Elder's granddaughter. The Spiders are childhood friends.

Where do the Scarlet Eyes fit if not with the Kurta Clan?

But how?

Valtiel shuts the laptop and rests her head on the back of her chair. Eyes closed, so she could regain a few moments of composure. Her back aches after huddling for another entire day.

Today is another wasted day. No new information. No breakthrough whatsoever.

She might as well give up and call it quits. The Kurta Clan is a hopeless, faraway answer. Without any survivors, she could not ask anyone. Without any credible information from books and websites, she could never go on forward. But she could never go back to the Troupe and ask them. Never. She might still receive text messages from them every now and then, but she would never ever resort to asking them.

To ask Shalnark would be like asking the Danchou himself. They are close, after all. Who knows if Shalnark is travelling with the Danchou now? Well, she would never know; Danchou has never spared her a single text since forever. She might even delete his number and it would not be missed at all.

Opening her eyes, she notices from the glass roofs that it is already very dark. She checks her phone; it opens up to a photo of Julia and Warren she has taken on her last day at Meteor City. At 10:21 P.M., she should be going home.

She starts arranging her clutter of books and scrolls when someone approaches her table.

"Ah, Val, I thought you'd still be here." Shizuku waves a hand to her, while her other hand adjusts the black-framed glasses over her nose. Her dark layered hair falls to the middle of her back, with her bangs over her forehead and framing the sides of her face.

"Shizu-chan, I'm surprised you're still here."

"I was finishing my report for the boss, when I remembered you liked staying late."

"That's new." Valtiel laughs a little. "For you to remember something."

"Hm?" Shizuku blinks, quite innocent. "Why so?"

"Nothing! Did you need help with anything?"

"I checked the translation you sent me earlier," Shizuku says, flashing her a thumbs-up sign. "And sent it to the boss. He likes it, and now they are included to the presentation for the evening gala. The Hunters are sending more towards my way, so it's not very easy to keep track with everything."

"Then you should be happy that we're going home. I could use a good bath." Valtiel grabs a small bag and slings it over her shoulder. Her dress billows as she leads Shizuku out of the archives, the two of them the remaining occupants of the grand museum.

Once inside the elevator, Valtiel perks up. "That reminds me. Do you already have a date for the event?"

As in her usual way, Shizuku blinks. "Event? What event?"

"Um, the evening gala?"

"Huh? Oh! Yes, but no." She shakes dark hair back and forth. "I don't have a date."

The elevator dings and they both walk out, crossing the wide lobby with tiles shined to perfection, and off to the exit. Without the other volunteers, the place is quiet and cold, almost like a haunted house with the moonlight spilling through the glass and long shadows across the floor. An imposing statue of an ancient warlord stands at the very center of the lobby, left there for guests to admire and for children to awe.

Out in the streets, the winds blow colder; Valtiel wishes she could have worn a more appropriate attire, but it had been a sunny morning and it is hard not to wear something thin and silky. Beside her, Shizuku lets her long hair breeze with the wind, tucking some locks away from her face. The two women walk side by side on the side street, alone but for their shadows following behind.

Valtiel tries pressing the issue, for the benefit of a friend. "So you don't have a date? How come?" Her lips curl when she remembers Thomas's insistence earlier that morning. What a joke, it seems.

"Nope. You get a date when someone asks you out, right?"

"Yes, I suppose." She doesn't have an argument with that logic. "Has no one asked you out?"

"Not that I can remember." Shizuku smiles and sticks her tongue out as a tease.

That will be hard. Valtiel sighs as she rubs her hands up and down her arms, warming her skin. Anyone who knows Shizuku that she has bad cases of memory loss, but not as severe as Valtiel's own. Shizuku could forget something as trivial as anyone's name. Whether she remembers them or not quite depends; there is never really a pattern as far as Valtiel analyzed her.

Shizuku glances at her. "What about you, Val? Got a date already?"

Valtiel makes a face, her corners of her lips tugged down as far as they can go. Shizuku laughs. "Oh, no, not me. If we are going through the process of having someone ask me out, then certainly no. No one has ever asked me out, and I don't think anyone ever would."

"Why not? When you're pretty?" Shizuku suggests.

"You are, too, but appearances are not everything that matters."

"That's true." Shizuku agrees. She looks up to the night skies and grins at the sight of many stars. The wind picks up again, stirring her hair and making Valtiel shudder once more. "I wouldn't mind going to the gala on my own. I think it might even be fun, don't you think?"

"Right!" Valtiel beams and they both laugh. They turn to another corner that leads to an intersection in the small town. "But if someone ever asks you out, Shizu-chan, you should really accept."

Upon turning another corner to some darkened street, they pass by a few young men idling under the light of a lamppost. Valtiel steels herself as she and Shizuku pass, not at all bothering to look at the men's faces, yet still, it happens. It happens so fast it is hard to keep up.

Suddenly, one of the men grabs Valtiel's bag. Another backs her up against a wall, his arms on either side of her face. The third one assaults Shizuku, backing her to the lamppost and hoping to corner her there. Then the warnings and threats ensue, one after another. The second man has his hands inside her bag in mere seconds, pulling out nothing but notepads, journals, and pens. He finds a small purse, pries it open, and snatches whatever bills are inside.

Valtiel narrows her eyes at the man trapping her. She has enough fair share of rough-faced men from her time in Heaven's Arena, but this one is downright ugly: coarse black hair like a bear, crooked and yellowed teeth, a thick scar beneath his left eye, and a chewed left ear.

Then she feels it, careful at first, and then rougher. His pudgy fingers are on her skirt, trailing upwards to touch the skin of her thigh. She glances at Shizuku's direction; the two men corner her at the lamppost, like two dogs starved of a treat. One rolls a lock of black hair while the other grins at Shizuku.

The ugly man's rough hand seizes her thigh, kneading the flesh there. Valtiel casts a sidelong glance at Shizuku, who nods back to her and proceeds to summon a little amount of aura.

A light blue glow surrounds Shizuku, and something materializes in her hands.

With the men momentarily distracted, Valtiel grabs the hand on her thigh and gives it a violent twist, wrenching the bones and veins from the inside. The man screams and tries to snatch his hand back, but her other hand darts out, claws gleaming and digging into the soft flesh of his pudgy fingers, breaking the bones inside before pushing him off her.

She wipes the blood on her skirt and turns for her friend. Shizuku is also finished.

"You okay, Val?" Shizuku dusts off her white leggings and rests the head of the vacuum cleaner over her right shoulder. She appears calm, without a hair out of place. "This is why we shouldn't walk late at night."

"It happens sometimes." Valtiel looks down on her victim, still alive and writhing from his torn flesh. She turns for the other two, motionless on the floor. "Are they dead?"

"I had to do something." Shizuku poises her vacuum cleaner over the dead bodies. "Deme-chan, can you suck in the bodies and blood?"

The blue conjured item opens its jaws, revealing a set of razor-sharp teeth. Deme-chan sets to work and inhales the bodies with ease. Then Shizuku walks up to Valtiel's still breathing victim, and blinks at her.

With that kind of look, Valtiel supposes an explanation is needed. "You could do him in if you want."

Shizuku just shrugs and rams her vacuum cleaner onto the man's head. The force of her strength shatters his skull, ending his constant whines from his mangled hand. Deme-chan hovers above the body and sucks the rest of him, blood and all.

"All cleaned up." The vacuum cleaner disappears from Shizuku's hands. "Should we go home?"

"I guess that would be the best." Valtiel picks up her bag and sighs, already quite spent. That man's hand on her thigh still lingers on her skin. She would need a bath. "See you again on Monday, Shizu-chan."

"See you, Val!" And Shizuku turns for the other street, disappearing.

It does not take long afterwards to reach home. Valtiel lives in an apartment recommended by one of the Hunters at the museum. It is a four-story complex, with the same old-fashioned architecture like every other buildings in town. Deep-set blocks of grey rocks, a striking entrance, with a short flight of stairs.

She sighs again as she jogs on the staircase, heading to the second floor, while her hand fumbles for her keys. Her skin still tingles from where the man had grabbed her, and half of her mind wishes she should have dispatched him then and there. It would have made things easier−the Phantom Troupe style.

As she reaches for her door, she slows to a stop. The keys and her bag go forgotten in her hands.

Her attention is solely on the presence inside her room. Not just any presence: she knows the person. She knows them bone-deep, as if etched into her skin. Their aura leaks in deadly waves, like a black hole sucking in any semblance of light. It frightens her on the spot.

Is it the prince? Has he found her again? Her mind goes into overdrive: fight or flight? Yet the presence also hides something beneath its vehemence. Something she could not place and not put into words.

Bracing herself, Valtiel opens the door and takes a cautious step across the threshold. She peeps inside the darkened little room, meant only for one person, and puts her bag on the floor. She slips between the creak and shuts the door behind her.

A tall figure shifts from where it stands in front of an open window. He moves like a man in a dream, sluggish and almost lifeless. A marionette with flimsy strings. It is unlike him to stumble in his balance, given his always-perfect grace and calculations. Yet he stumbles still as he turns around to face her. A familiar golden locket gleams in his left hand.

Valtiel drops the glare and retracts her claws. Her mouth opens and closes, unable to form the words.

In the end, after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, he speaks. As always, his voice is like silk.

"I believe you have something that is mine."

Author's Notes: I'm back, yay! How's everyone doing in these troubling times? I hope everyone is safe and healthy!

I'm actually very excited to return with this latest chapter. I loved writing Shizuku and her introduction in a museum setting. She has always been one of the bookish Spiders around, aside from Chrollo and Shal. With Shizuku introduced, we all know what's coming next: the return of the Phantom Troupe! Cue Kurapika's unholy screeching in the background. I'm so excited to introduce Shizuku to the Troupe and how they would react on a new person among their ranks.

Any guesses who Val's secret guest is? Come on. I think that one's a freebie already!

*HuangShaotian0005 - Val and Chrollo are like high schoolers. All that pride and teenage angst. LOL.

*xenocanaan - Val is officially the Phantom Troupe's adopted baby girl. No one can convince them otherwise. 😂

*AikoUchiha01 - Sometimes I wish Hisoka was more normal and less creepy so that he can actually stand a chance with Val. Or maybe he is good as he is now? Hmm...

*showichi - Oh, gosh! What have I done? People are shipping HisoVal more than I thought they would! I'm seriously considering my life decisions now, haha! And as for Chrollo doing something that would make Val "very happy", I might write something of the sort, because why not? And to be honest, I don't think Chrollo himself would pass a one in a lifetime chance like that.

*Kojima Miharu - Thank you very much for the support! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far! I'm sure Val and Chrollo will find a way to reconcile as soon as possible. Fingers crossed!

That'll be all for now, friends! Stay safe, wash your hands, and everything in the world would be okay soon! 🌏❤️