Chapter XXXVIII

Last night has been such an emotional rollercoaster for the both of them that when the evening gala ended, both simply stripped from their formal attire, donned the nearest comfortable clothes, and went tumbling down the bed at almost one o'clock in the morning. Valtiel was asleep as soon as she had her pillow and buried herself under the covers, while Chrollo took a longer while, rolled around the bed, and came to spoon behind her, and then dozed off.

It is almost two hours later when Chrollo twitches on the bed and lets forth a powerful burst of aura.

Everything in the small room trembles from the sheer strength of it. Valtiel jerks awake, her skin searing from the point-blank contact with such power, her sleepy golden eyes making the figure of Chrollo Lucilfer snarling angrily and slamming the apartment door shut as he leaves. She sighs and looks around her poor room, lamenting the burned sheets and ripped mess of feather pillows.

Rising from the bed, she checks at the time and knows for sure she cannot waste anymore. She changes into a warm sweater and scarf, and grabs one of the Danchou's dark coats on her way out.

The world outside is still quiet and cold, unbearably cold. For an early autumn night, she finds it strange. Her teeth are chattering as she makes her way around town, with her senses perked up in their highest peak. She knows it is not much, but enough to help a little.

It makes her sigh: this is not the first night he woke up from a nightmare and stormed off. In fact, he has done the exact same thing for almost a fortnight, going dark-faced and inconsolable in the nights, but bright and cheerful and charming in the morning. Whenever he goes in such transformations, she really does not comprehend it. He can go for nights angry and displeased, the murderous aura filling the room, and it makes her wary; but come morning he is back in his usual self, with only the deep bags under his eyes as evidences of his fitful sleeps.

He should be around here somewhere; she could feel him that much.

The wind blows at her face and disheveled hair. She turns a corner, still shivering, and notices the small playground at the center of town. It must be very colorful and exciting in the morning, but at barely three in the morning, it looks just as depressing as the young man seated on the wide swing does.

As she makes her careful approach, searching for any hint of violence from him, she blinks at the golden trinket he has in his hands, rolling on its gold chain and winking under the moonlight. She has not seen the mourning locket for weeks, and to be honest, she could have cared less for the sorry little thing.

"Danchou," she breathes, stalking closer. He is swinging gently in his seat, head lowered and his attention seemingly focused on the locket. She steps closer. "It's cold out here."

"You should have stayed inside," he murmurs. "I am fine."

"I brought your coat." She takes the initiative to come even closer and wrap the coat around his stooped shoulders. She joins him on the swing, rocking them back and forth as gentle as the evening breeze.

He doesn't mind her presence. Rather, he doesn't seem to care.

It warrants another sigh. In the back of her throat, she wants to yawn. "Would you like to talk about it?"

His aura pulses around them, hot and dangerous with unconcealed malice. Chrollo bites down hard on the corner of his mouth, tasting the tang of blood. In his hands, he opens and closes the locket, letting it gleam under the light, anchoring peace from the photo inside. Then his eyes, glaring, travel to the arm Valtiel has on his knee. A pale red blister pokes out from the edge of her sleeve. At once, his glare disappears.

"You're hurt." He sounds surprised, resentful. He pries the sleeve lower to study the extent of the injury.

"It's fine."

"No," he rumbles, and tugs at the sleeve down to her elbow. Her entire forearm has blisters, most likely from the very close contact during their sleep and his sudden burst of unchecked aura.

He frowns to himself, glaring at the blisters as if they would help. He should not have pressed himself against her during their sleep. He should have kept his distance, separated themselves with pillows, or stayed on the couch−

"It's fine," comes her soft, reassuring voice. "Really, Danchou."

In the back of his mind, Chrollo knows she is fighting sleep and exhaustion to keep up with him. The evening gala had taken its toll on her; more so their confrontation in the archives room. She needs to catch up with sleep. Instead, she is here, mustering her most engaging smile for him. He assumes it is for his benefit, if not−Oh, well.

He puts out his right hand and summons his Bandit's Secret. The young woman beside him perks up at the sight of it. It has been a while since he used his abilities in her presence. A year, more than a year.

He flips through the pages, knowing the abilities by heart, and stops to the one of his choice. He senses her curiosity as she reads the name and observes the photo in the book. He is grateful for her curiosity; at least it distracts him from his previous nightmare.

"It's a transmuted healing balm," he explains as a bottle conjures in his left hand. He removes the cap and gestures for her to hold out her wounded forearm. "It can heal and relieve pains, but it could only do much." He pours a generous amount and wipes it on her skin. She flinches. "I am sorry."

"You didn't−"

"No, I am sorry for the trouble." The breeze picks up again, whipping at their cheeks. "I am not so accustomed to nightmares," he admits in a soft, thoughtful voice. "I always thought I had them suppressed after all these years, but it seems some nightmares would eventually catch up with me."

She stares at his face, feeling that he is no longer talking about only Yuan.

He catches her eyes and tries a smile. It comes, but it is pitiful, no longer the charming ones he could so easily muster.

"No matter what you say, you cannot deny that it was my fault," he says, breath hitching in his throat. "I could have prevented it if I had not acted so sure of myself. If I had seen better, thought better, maybe no one should be dead. It is my responsibility, to keep everyone safe−but I failed."

He snarls and lowers his head again, hating himself for this weakness, hating himself for this sliver of sentimentalities to break through his hardened image as the Phantom Troupe leader. But he has lost so much, lost so many along the way that it is hard not to succumb to the pain.

Valtiel puts an arm around his waist and sighs against his shoulder. They continue rocking back and forth on the swing, the metal clanking above them.

Instinctively, he shifts so that her hold on him is firmer, his cheek against the crown of her head.

"Is it bad that I'm bad at comforting?" she asks out of blue.

"Not entirely." Despite himself, he manages a little chuckle. Not so pitiful now. "Your presence enough is comforting, Val. Stay here with me." He kisses her forehead. When she blinks and looks up at him, he smiles and dips down to kiss her between the eyes.

"What was that for?" Her brows furrow, and Chrollo kisses those, too.

"A thank you," he says simply.

"For what?"

"For being here."

She shrugs and swallows back another yawn. Leaning against his large build, with the cold wind and the soft metallic clang of the swing, she knows she could fall asleep at any moment. She closes her eyes and nestles against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek on his sleeve.

"Well, in any case, I will always be here."

A small smile tugs at his lips. "Always?"

"Yes." This time, she yawns in earnest, all big mouth and a loud groan. She hears him chuckle. "Yes, me and the Phantom Troupe. You said so yourself: we are family, are we not? Including me?" She blinks round golden eyes at him, innocent and hopeful. "I am part of the family, Danchou?"

"Of course you are." He nods. "You will always be. And you say you will be with me?"

"For always," she confirms. "Though I am very sorry about Yuan-san and I know we would all miss him, you cannot focus on his passing and put a strain to yourself. You still have the Phantom Troupe. Besides, I do not think Yuan-san would want you this way."

"Perhaps." He stares ahead, to the slide and monkey bars. Then he remembers the locket and dangles it in her face. He smiles mischievously. "I was hoping I can have this back. You meant for this to be mine in the first place, did you not? Well, I am claiming it again."

"Do as you wish. You left it behind after−" Her cheeks heat up and she says no more.

"After what?" he prompts, teasing.

"Never mind."

"Would we head for home?"

She blinks and stares long at his face. He is rather calmed now, the murderous aura gone completely. He closes his Bandit's Secret and the healing balm on her forearm also vanishes, but as he predicted, the pain is gone. She is grateful for that. Less problems in the morning.

Chrollo stands and offers a hand to her. Together, they leave the quiet playground, hand-clasped as Valtiel continues shivering from the occasional cold blasts of wind. It should be around four now, in her mental clock. Which means more than enough time to tumble back to bed and snatch a few hours of sleep. The thought alone would make her weep, disgruntled and sleepy as she is already.

They are fast approaching the apartment when an explosion rattles the quiet streets.

The murderous aura is back in Chrollo. "What's that?"

"It's−" She gasps as the flames rise higher into the night skies, a few blocks away. "It's the museum!"

She tightens her hold on his hand and practically drags him across the street.

Dark smoke engulfs the entire front of the building, with flames licking at every corner and rising higher and higher. Some of the overnight volunteers are shouting and coughing, panicking as they shoulder their way out of the fiery chaos. Valtiel tugs at his hand again, pushing themselves into the crowd and gasping as another explosion blasts off, shattering the lancet windows and their stained glasses. Chrollo pulls her out of the rain of shards, shielding her with his body.

Shizuku drags Rinka by the hand, both of them coughing from the smoke. Oliver is limping behind. His sleeves are burned and his shoes melted.

Valtiel pushes Chrollo off her and rushes to them. "What happened?"

"A bomb set off." Shizuku coughs again. "Nen user, I think."

"Is someone still inside?"

"Thomas is in there," Oliver says weakly.

Chrollo's face darkens when he sees that look in her face. "No−" He starts, but she is already dashing into the entrance, still ablaze with growing fire. "Valtiel, no−"

There is the familiar sense of worry and anxiety rising in him. His eyes widen as she disappears behind a thick curtain of smoke. He has seen this before; he has seen someone he cares about leave and never return; he has seen it with Yuan. More painfully, he has seen it with Rhanion.

All sense of composure threatens to break as he dashes forward too, to get her back−but Shizuku stands in his way and pushes him back from the fire. Even in his panic, he is surprised at her strength, pushing him away bodily as if he does not matter. Growling, he attempts to sidestep her at least.

Shizuku pushes him backwards again. "Wait! You can't go in there!"

He shoots her a murderous look. "Watch me, I will."

"No! Let me handle this!" Her blue vacuum cleaner materializes in her hands, surprising Chrollo. She stands between him and the flaming entrance, and tells the vacuum: "Blinky, suck in all the flames and smoke please. Hurry!"

The vacuum's mouth spreads into a cheerful, toothy grin, before opening its mouth to devour the flames and smoke. The fire curves upwards like a hurricane and swoops into the vacuum's mouth, appearing like a reverse flamethrower. Shizuku has to shut her mouth and keep her eyes closed as the black smoke follows next. In a matter of seconds, the museum's front is clear with burned walls, and there is an amazed group of volunteers gasping and clapping at Shizuku.

Chrollo wastes no time. He rushes into the lobby and searches around the dark room. Everything is pitch-black, the air heavy with the scent of burned wood, clothes, and even hair. He spots a blonde figure kneeling on a supine person on the corner. He runs to them.

"Valtiel−"

The first thing that catches him off-guard is her tears. She kneels over Thomas's body as she tries to put her pressure on him, resuscitate him through CPR. He pushes the sudden possessiveness in him as she dips down to breathe air into her friend's mouth.

This is natural, he wants to remind himself. He has to understand. It is all to save a life.

Shizuku also comes running. "I already called an ambulance," she says. "How is he?"

"Unmoving," Valtiel answers shakily, still panicking. "We have to hurry."

"Don't worry. Medics are on their way."

"But Thomas−"

"What happened here?" Chrollo interrupts, drowning out her pleads, and turns for the dark-haired girl.

"Someone must have planted a bomb," Shizuku answers, a bit uncertain. "There's quite a few of us present to clean up the mess from last night's gala. No one really noticed anyone coming in and leaving again." She blinks when bright red lights and a loud wee-woo wee-woo of an ambulance catches their attention. "Oh! There they are! Let's get Tobias settled in first."

"Isn't his name Thomas?" Chrollo mutters.

"What?" Shizuku tilts her head to the side.

"Nothing."

The three of them watch as the medics attend to the injured ones. Most of the volunteers are injured anyway, except for Shizuku, without a hair out of place and her black long-sleeved shirt and white leggings without a hint of dust. Valtiel, on the other hand, has her platinum-blonde hair in a long rumpled mess over her back with a thick dark soot on both her cheeks. Her eyes are still teary, her lips pulled into a frown.

Chrollo softly wipes at her cheek. "Here, now," he whispers. "Why are you crying?"

"I was just worried about him."

"And it never occurred to you that it could be you in that ambulance?" he spits the words like poison.

"No." She shakes her head. "Never."

"You are pathetic," he grinds out.

Her eyes flash at him, and then she looks down. "I know."

Shizuku blinks at what could only be a lovers' quarrel in her eyes. She finds it very amusing. She adjusts her big glasses over her nose and clears her throat, to break the tension.

"So, what should we do about the stolen treasures? There must be something stolen, right? No one would have planted a bomb for fun."

Valtiel finds herself smiling. She can imagine one person who would do exactly that for shits and giggles. Red-purple hair, lazy amber eyes, long claws flicking over her skin to help her sleep. It is hard to admit, even to herself, that she misses Hisoka.

Chrollo catches her little smile and raises a dark eyebrow. Inquiring. Suspicious.

Again, Shizuku reads between the tension. "There's a security room where we can study what the thief stole or wanted. Thank goodness the explosion was only at the museum's front," she says, pointing to the burned staircase at the corner. "Are you two coming?"

"Yes, please." Valtiel ignores the Danchou's sulky look and falls in step with her friend.

No one is manning the computers, so that leaves Shizuku to tinker with the passwords and other means to access the footages. Meanwhile, the pair is watching closely over her shoulder, standing so apart one would not think they know each other at all. Valtiel keeps her face glued to the monitor, lips pursed, while Chrollo narrows his eyes at her bland face and knows for sure she is hiding something from him. When Shizuku finds the right footage, the other two inch closer.

They watch from a large screen as the figure of a small dark-haired man with a feverish look in his gaunt face. In the screen, he wears a dark blue tunic and a hooded robe, and brings along a large black duffel bag with which to carry his stolen treasures.

"The Faberzhe Eggs," Chrollo notes.

"Oh? You've heard?" asks Shizuku.

"I listened to the presentation last night. The eggs were made to commemorate the emperor's family come to the throne. One egg for each year, with different designs and materials. There should be around three hundred eggs manufactured, but most are lost in history."

"The museum has collected twenty-four," says Valtiel. "And this thief is stealing them all."

"Our thief does not seem to be in a great hurry to leave the museum, as evidenced here," he explains, pointing at the casual stride of the small thief as if walking on a park. "And he used a bit of Nen to trigger the explosion. See how he attaches something on different columns? A Transmuter, more like. He would certainly use the bombs to distract anyone at the scene."

"You seem to know a lot about these things," Shizuku notes.

"I speak from experience," he answers, winking mischievously at Valtiel. She rolls her eyes.

"Shouldn't we stop admiring his tact and give chase already?" she suggests, exasperated.

"Is there a camera for outside the museum, Miss Shizuku? Directed in the street? It would be easier to track our thief down if we know which way he went."

The dark-haired woman types on the keyboard, and clicks to a new server window. "Here, this footage could not have been an hour old. There's our thief, escaping via a car." She turns to Chrollo. "Where do you think he will go?"

"Do you have a map of the city?"

"Here." Another window comes up. Chrollo nods in appreciation.

"He's heading for the train station," he says with a swish of his dark coat. "Let's go."

At the train station, there is an unmistakable whistle of trains departing.

The group watches in silence as two trains depart from the station, going to two separate directions. Chrollo narrows his eyes as he quietly assesses the situation, feeling for more danger lurking in the silent station. There could be more bombs, Nen-construct or otherwise, and it would not really do for him to have his lady exposed to such dangers. He has watched her plunge herself into fire just moments ago; he would not lose her to another.

He flicks his gaze back to his current team members. It feels almost like working with the Troupe again. It animates his nerves, heightens his senses, puts a fire into his thirst for more distractions. A chase would do very well to drown out the nightmares. He turns back to the two women.

"I am chasing after the train bound for north-west," he says. "You ladies take the one bound for east. If the thief is on that train, you will inform me immediately, Valtiel."

"Yes, Danchou," she says, obedient.

"Our mission is to retrieve the stolen treasures," he continues. "Both of you will endeavor to accomplish that, and to keep each other safe. Stay close enough for assistance. I will inform you should the thief be on my side, of course."

"What about the thief?" asks Shizuku. "What are we going to do with him?"

"I don't really care," he says, shrugging. "Just keep each other safe. Are we ready?"

He looks at Shizuku, who nods, and then to Valtiel, who snorts and folds her arms across her chest, turning away from him. He glowers and stays rooted on his spot, letting the former walk on ahead. He snatches Valtiel by her left wrist and pulls her back to him. "You will be careful, won't you?"

"Of course," she huffs. She tries to wrench free of him. A futile attempt. "Danchou−"

"I will let you go," he whispers, eyes softening as well. "If you promise to be safe."

There is something both desperate and helpless in his tone that makes her look at him more closely, another habit of hers to see through his lies. He seems to get the implication and laughs, weaves a hand through her ponytail, and presses a hard kiss on her temple. She frowns against him, somehow connecting his sudden paranoia to the recent loss of Yuan. After all, he is responsible for her and the Troupe members. Losing another one would probably send the Danchou into a massacre. Probably.

She steps away from him and joins Shizuku. They enter the train station and follow the tracks to where the train has just disappeared to, with wisps of grey smoke as their guide.

They run the length of the tracks, catching up to the train, and then jump onto the last car. The winds have gotten stronger, colder, that Valtiel sneezes into her sleeves.

"Oh, bless," Shizuku says cheerfully.

"Ugh. Thanks." Valtiel wipes her nose on the sleeves.

"You and Chrollo seem to be very close."

Her already pale face pales even more. Valtiel sneezes again. "What makes you say that?"

Shizuku giggles and leans against the iron railing at the side, the winds also whipping her black hair backwards. Somewhere on the way here, she pulled out a white scarf.

"It's just what I see," she answers without much thought. "He keeps you so close all the time. He nearly killed me when I stopped him from rushing into the lobby after you."

That makes Valtiel blanch further. "He did−what?"

"It's nothing!" Shizuku tries to recover, but her friend is already anxious. She laughs it off. "He was just very worried, that's all. I understand that."

"He's… a bit strange…"

"True, but he does seem to know what's going on here."

"Ach." Valtiel scrunches up her nose. "It's a hobby of his, really."

"But why do you call him 'Danchou'? You know it means boss, right?"

"Yes."

"So why? What is he the boss of?"

"Umm…" Valtiel feels her cheeks flare up out of shame.

She really cannot talk about the Phantom Troupe so casually like this. If one word gets out, who knows which Spider would have her punished? Phinks? Nobunaga? Or Feitan would finally peel out her nails as he always says? She shakes her head.

"It's just a habit among our group of friends," she answers. "He is like the mother of the group, always keeping everyone on check, you know. So yeah−Danchou."

Shizuku giggles again. "That sounds very sweet."

Despite her misgivings, Valtiel has to smile. "It is," she agrees, never realizing how much she also misses the rambunctious Spiders.

"We should probably start checking if our thief is here."

"Good idea."

They pounce onto the roof and stride over the cars, checking each interiors as they pass. The train travels steadily on its tracks, making their journey above smooth and almost like a walk in a park. They chatter of nonsensical things, mostly about the museum, until they come across the other end of the train. Smoke belches in thick, dark puffs from the front.

Shizuku presses a finger to her lips. "I sense movements below. Should we?"

"Might as well." Valtiel shrugs, lacking the enthusiasm. "What do we do with the thief?"

"Kill him?" Blinky materializes in Shizuku's hands and grins at Valtiel.

"All right, but you handle that. I don't want his blood on my hands."

"Okay." Shizuku chuckles as they smash the windows at the sides and come upon the suspect.

A man twists in his short legs. He looked small and stooped in the security footage. Up close, he looks more like−Valtiel has no other polite words to describe him−a weasel, with thinning brown hair, a pair of beady black eyes, and a weak chin. He hisses like one, too−a weasel−when he realizes that he is cornered between two women with the firebox raging at his back. The duffel bag sits at his feet.

The weasel of a thief leers at them.

"Uh−" That is Valtiel, hoping to sound aggressive. She has never been in a confrontation like this before, with or without the Troupe. She is not even sure if the Spiders would let her do the talking. What would the Danchou do? What would Phinks or Feitan do to scare him? Oh wait! She's watched something like this in a movie once, when the hero corners a villain.

"Put your hands up in the air where I can see them!" she demands, something of a pride tugging at her. She makes her intentions clear by switching to her claws. "And give us back the treasure!"

"You've never threatened anyone before, have you?" the man croons, trying to be suave, but Valtiel makes a face at him and Shizuku downright shudders. He fumes at their neglect.

"Just give us back the treasures, and no harm will come to you." Shizuku sounds better with this stuff.

"And if I refuse?" the man drawls, snatching the bag and hugging it against him.

"Man." Valtiel sighs and drops the aggressive pretense. She rubs at her temples. "Just don't think about fighting us on this, okay? It's almost five in the morning, and I am sleepy and hungry and you're not helping. Now, can we please have the eggs back so we could all go home?"

"I agree," adds Shizuku. "I'm hungry."

"You wenches will show me proper respect!" His face burns red with anger.

"Respect−what?" Valtiel mocks.

"Oh, Val! Weren't you supposed to call Chrollo once we find the thief?"

"Ah! Oh, no!" The blonde flinches and fumbles for her phone. Really, she could not understand the importance of technology. She dials his number and it rings once. She feigns a cheerful tone. "Ah, Danchou? Yes, we are quite fine. The thief is with us−Oh, you're on your way here? Oh… Okay… Guess we'll have to wrap this up sooner… No, I mean yes, I am hungry. We can grab something to eat on our way to town… That's nice… Can Shizu-chan come with us? Okay. See you!"

"He's coming here?" Shizuku blinks.

"On his way already." Valtiel groans and pockets the gadget again.

"Reinforcements, eh?" The man shoves a hand into the bag and the two women assume their stance. He takes out one of the famed Faberzhe Eggs, one with a crystallized surface and dappled with white seed pearls, and throws it at them.

Shizuku swings Blinky like a baseball bat and forces the egg to the side. It explodes upon contact, creating a massive fissure on the train's left flank. The force of the wind threatens to suck them out of the car, and all three of them try to hold onto something.

The thief takes out two more eggs, coating them with aura, and hurls them to either women. This time, Shizuku holds out the vacuum cleaner's mouth, but the egg keeps rushing for her and explodes once more, almost near Shizuku's face. The combination of explosion and winds force her backwards across the train.

Valtiel eyes the egg aimed at her and kicks it upwards, destroying the metal roof. The more the thief sends Nen-conjured eggs, the more destroyed the train becomes, reduced to a metal scrap with iron posts, shattered windows, and screeching tires.

"We need to get the bag from him," says Shizuku. "He keeps duplicating the eggs and making Nen bombs out of them. Chrollo's right; he is a Transmuter but with Conjuration techniques."

"Transmuters and their stupid love for explosives." Valtiel growls. "Can you keep the thief busy while I take care of the bag?"

"Hm? Oh, sure thing!" Shizuku grips the vacuum cleaner tighter. "On your signal."

The thief scoffs at them. "What now, ladies? Trying to play a game?"

"Hardly." Valtiel dives in for the bag, sliding across the floor and embracing it to her chest. She slams against the bottom of the firebox, back against the scalding hot metal surface, while the thief throws one last Nen bomb at her.

Shizuku appears behind the thief, rams Blinky onto his skull, and watches him limp to the floor.

Valtiel kicks the thrown egg at her direction and it flies out of the train, soars through the deep twilight skies. She and Shizuku scramble to see where the egg would land: in the middle of a wooden bridge, with the train speeding head-on towards it.

Then it explodes, all splinters, iron beams, and another wave of red-orange flames and black smoke. The train keeps surging forward, inching closer to the massive destroyed bridge, and no amount of their Nen could stop it.

Like rats, they scramble to their feet again, hoping to outrun the impending descent.

Suddenly, a crystalline wall materializes on either side of the train, looking as if trying to outpace the train's speed. The mirrors meet at the end of the bridge, making a crystalline wall, as the flanks solidify beside them. When the train hits the wall, it sends a thousand ripples of multicolored fractals across the wall and the sides. Some sort of a crystal box surrounds them, keeping them in place.

Chrollo saunters so casually as if he could not be bothered by anything. He smiles down on them, his Bandit's Secret floating in his right hand. "Troubles, ladies?"

"Not anymore," says Shizuku. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course." He smiles wider and offers a hand for his lady. "Valtiel, darling?"

"I'm fine." She lets him pull her up while she clutches the duffel bag containing the eggs.

"And where is our esteemed thief?"

"There." Shizuku points to where the small man lies with his face on the floor. "He's not dead yet."

"Would you have qualms killing him?" Chrollo wonders, one dark eyebrow arched. Valtiel gapes at him for this ridiculous question.

Much to her surprise, Shizuku shrugs it off. "Guess not," she says, and delivers a heavy blow on the man's skull, smashing his brain inside, and then lets Blinky feed off on the man's remains.

Valtiel shudders. "You two make quite a good pair," she mumbles. She kneels on the floor to check on the Faberzhe Eggs. She blinks and counts twenty-four, the complete collection stolen from the gallery. If that is so, Shizuku is right to guess that the thief could only duplicate small items and lace them instead with explosive properties.

Chrollo smiles his polite smile and closes Bandit's Secret. The crystalline room dissipates. "House of Mirrors," he explains. "A Conjuration technique, anything that happens inside the room would not affect the outside world. Good at containing troubles like these."

"Good for you," she mumbles and slings the bag over her shoulder. Chrollo steps forward and takes it from her. She lets him do as he pleases, and rubs at her stomach. "So, breakfast?"

"Breakfast indeed." He takes her hand and intertwines their fingers. "Miss Shizuku, would you please join us for breakfast in town?"

"Me?" she echoes, as if unbelieving him.

"Don't worry." Valtiel smiles. "Danchou here will pay for our meal." She looks up at him.

"But of course." He chuckles again. "My treat."

They find a small café a few blocks from the museum. They share a simple breakfast of pancakes, eggs with smoked salmon, and sautéed apples. Somewhere on their right, the sun is rising steadily, peeking from the imposing spiked roofs of historical buildings.

Chrollo sips at his steaming coffee, before turning to his left. "Miss Shizuku, you have quite an interesting Nen ability. What is it all about?" he asks in his most charming voice.

Valtiel catches his mischievous side smirk and rolls her eyes at him. She busies herself with her sautéed apples. She doesn't care whenever Chrollo turns up his charm to get information.

"I call it Blinky," Shizuku answers, not at all suspicious. "It can consume any non-living thing and no Nen constructs. Other than those restrictions, it's pretty simple."

"Simple yet intriguing," he says. "Your second restriction would allow you to spot traps, won't it? That would be quite useful in combat. It would also be helpful in cleaning up."

"Well, yes," Shizuku hums. "It is a vacuum cleaner."

He laughs against the rim of his cup. "So you are a volunteer at the museum. How long have you been here? Do you live with any relatives? Friends?"

"Nope. It's just me. Two, if you count Blinky."

"I see."

"I was meaning to ask something," she says.

"Ask away."

Shizuku puts down her mug and stares right into his dark round eyes. "Are you and Val together?"

Chrollo chokes on his coffee and Valtiel wheezes on her sautéed apples.

After the awkward breakfast, no thanks to Shizuku, the three of them walk back to the museum to deliver the Faberzhe Eggs. Another crowd gathers outside, police officers and firemen who are inquiring about the incident and checking for safety. Chrollo turns up his coat collar at the sight of the authorities, well aware that a famous Ruins Hunter owns the museum. Where there are Hunters, there are usually Blacklist Hunters. He would so hate to run across countries so soon.

The upper floors are unscathed from the explosion. They drop off the eggs in one of the treasure rooms at the back, Shizuku enabling the security cameras, and then leading them around the building.

"I should probably call the boss and tell him everything's fine," she says.

"That's good," Chrollo agrees, hands in his pockets.

"Where would you two go?"

"I'd like to see the archives room again," he says. "I could use a book or two to borrow."

"Ah, well, then. See you guys later."

"See you, Shizu-chan," Valtiel calls out from behind. When she is out of earshot, she glares. "Borrow?"

His smile is bright and innocent. He shrugs. "I like the work you do around here," he admits and takes her hand again. He knows his way around the building now, having memorized the floors and the most important treasure rooms, galleries, and back exits. Nothing misses Chrollo Lucilfer's sharp eyes.

In the archives, the sun is already shining through the windows. He walks around as if he already knows the place, rummages through shelves and shelves, and hums under his breath when he finds something that piques his interest. Then he goes on to another shelf, takes out an old hardbound volume, and tucks it under his elbow. Another round to another shelf, this time, to the farthest corner. It is almost dim here, without the golden shafts of sunlight reaching the aisle. He rakes his eyes through unfamiliar foreign languages, and is disheartened: he could not read these unless Valtiel translates for him.

As he is about to leave the aisle, he notices the glimmer of a gold-stamped book. Out of curiosity, since this one looks so polished than the dusty others, he flips through the pages and a piece of paper falls out. He picks it up, opens to see its contents, and glares at the paper.

It is a map, written in a translated language. He studied the same map weeks before a mission. He knows at first glance where this is.

Lukso Province in the Far East.

Glowering already, he turns the map over and over and feels a mixture of dread and anger coursing through him. Has Valtiel seen this? Does she know? Is she lying to me?

Then his mind whirls back to the day with the Desaran monk. Maxios. Did the ability fail? He knows something is not right. Damn it. Something is not terribly, painfully right.

He puts a large hand over his face and swallows hard. Composure. He needs to be calm and welcoming when he returns to her. Anger would create another rift. Suspicion would only push her away. He needs to be charming to her; he needs to play her right this time. Smile, Lucilfer. Smile.

He returns the book where he found it and carries his previous choices back to the table. She turns with a tired smile, with a hint of dark lines under her eyes. Again, those are his fault. He should not have stormed off that morning. He takes the seat next to her and looks into her eyes, searching for a lie.

Impossible, his always-perfect ego tells him. She cannot have known.

Testing the waters, he runs a hand through her blonde locks and brings the tip to his lips. His black heart flutters when she smiles softly. He takes that as a positive sign. He weaves his fingers through her hair, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, and pulls to kiss her between the eyes.

"What was that for?" she asks.

You cannot have found out anything.

"Oh, nothing."

You are mine, Kurta.

"I just felt like kissing you there."

For always.

Author's Notes: Aha! I'm back for another update! Many apologies if it took a while to post this. I'm doing very well to those who have left a comment/messaged me privately. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy as you read this update!

I missed writing action sequences, so here we have the trio of Val, Chrollo, and Shizuku. I love writing Shizuku with this pair for some odd reason. I can't wait for her to meet the other Troupe members. Also! RED ALERT: Danchou with a map of Lukso Province. I'd like to think that Val would be f***'d if Chrollo's possessiveness gets triggered again. Our home boy needs to take a chill pill, that's for sure. We'll see more of this in the next chapter, so keep posted!

*xenocanaan - I could promise all hell breaking loose once Valtiel finds out the truth. Advance R. I. P. Chrollo.

*JasperControlsMyEmotions - Yay, thank you, love!

*SilverThornz - Aw, thank you so much! Chrollo is much more scarred in the inside than what he lets on. Poor Danchou just needs hugs from the entire Troupe (except Hisoka, LOL).

*Xoxo. f - Thank you for patiently waiting for the update! I'm bad at updating soon, LOL.

*HuangShaotian0005 - Cute ship sailing again! (Cue Uvo, Shal, and other Spiders tearing up because they also ship ChroVal).

*Aurora Clarion - Yes, we are back to all touchy Danchou. Best version of Danchou, to be honest. LMAO. And you're right; it's wise in Val's position not to fall for it because it's in his nature to seduce to get what he wants. About Val dying in the end, I could see how that would affect Chrollo and the rest of the Troupe. If they went ballistic over Uvo's death, I could see them levelling an entire city or even country (if someone happens to kill Val). But we'll see, we'll see.. Thank you for the support!

*Hyperhype - Thank you so much!

*Ambres - I'm SO glad you got into HXH! It's my all-time favorite anime, and I started watching it as a kid watching the 1999 version. I've always loved the Zoldycks and the Troupe too, so I'm so ecstatic to be writing about the Spiders after years of fangirling, haha! I'm glad that you like the story so far, since writing a ChrolloxOC sounded impossible and difficult for me at the start. By all means, don't worry about leaving a long review-we can talk about the Troupe and Hisoka as much as you'd like. Once again, thank you so much!

Extra note: What are your thoughts of me writing a KilluaxOC story? I was daydreaming the other day about how cool it would be to write about Killua, though I know there are literally hundreds of good KilluaxOC fics out there and I probably cannot compete 😔 But I was thinking of an aged-up Killua, maybe in his 20s, so I can bring out the romance in this sheltered boy (he needs more friends!). Let me know what you guys think and if you have suggestions about this KilluaxOC fic! I'd be grateful!

That's all for now, folks! Thank you all for reading! 💕