Chapter LIX

Three years later

Her office is absolutely white with a lone wooden table and a laptop. Shalnark once noted how it reminds him of a psych ward, so they went shopping for mint green curtains and the sofa set in the middle of the room. Sometimes it feels like one—a psych ward, that is—when she is on her last wits, dealing with several people all at once, coming in and out and demanding this or asking that, an endless flurry of conversations with so many faces.

"—Miss Eleison, regarding these reports—"

"—Excuse me, Miss Eleison? A question—"

"—Uh, Miss Eleison, about tomorrow's meeting—"

"—There's a phone call for you, Miss—"

"—We'll need more supplies for the—"

Today, she stands before her glass window, letting the wintry sunlight warm her otherwise cold office. The scenery has not changed much, still the same barren wasteland with its garbage, but with more people drawn to the center of learning that she has nurtured over the three years.

Her phone rings. She picks it up after a moment of hesitation. "Yes?" she mumbles. "Ah, I understand, Mr. Niles. I shall see you after your classes. No, it's quite alright. I could use the exercise myself."

As she ends the call, the door opens. She immediately turns around to lunge towards her table, but it is only Machi and Kortopi entering. She cringes at herself.

"I thought it's one of the teachers." She laughs sheepishly. "I was about to pro lunge myself across the room to get to my shoes."

"Are you now?" Machi raises an eyebrow at the wiggling toes over the plush carpet.

"Gotta be prim and proper all the time, you know?" Valtiel winks. She pads across the bright office with only her stockings on, high heeled shoes discarded beneath the table.

"We heard you speaking with someone," Machi prompts, tracking the other's movements. She glances once to Kortopi. "Troubles?"

"Just the usual," Valtiel answers cheerfully, leaning her hips against the table's edge. She smiles for a few seconds, but when Machi raises her eyebrow even more, she knows she cannot lie to the Spider. Her smile twitches downwards. "It's him again."

Him only means one thing within the school's premises.

Kortopi tilts his head to the side, his teal blue eye blinking. "He never gives up, huh?"

Machi crosses her arms, unamused. "He only gets the balls when Danchou's not around."

Valtiel giggles at the crude term. "Well, he doesn't harm anything or anyone. Besides, I do need him for this job." She rounds to the table and wears her high heels again, wincing.

"Blisters?" Kortopi sounds apologetic enough.

"I'll get you a balm for those," Machi promises.

"Thank you." Valtiel stands up and smooths her navy blue bodycon suit and skirt, her black heels polished and shimmering. With the platinum blonde hair pulled up into a thick, twisted braided bun at the top of her head, she looks formal and presentable as the school's director.

"What do you think?" she asks, indicating her appearance. "Well enough?"

"Not looking like a hobo for sure," Kortopi quips.

"Good." Valtiel smirks and presses a finger to her lips. "We really wouldn't want that," she adds as a low whisper. She turns to Machi. "I'm meeting this respectable gentleman after his class."

"Need a hand?" Machi offers, eyes narrowed. "I can rip his tonsils out if you want."

"Please don't." Valtiel laughs as she passes by. "I need him to teach my students."

The hallways are clean as always; the janitors and other cleaning staff must be appraised for this. She keeps a mental note in the back of her head as she checks into the classrooms. The teachers are enthusiastic in their profession, and even the adult students are participating with their hands up in the air.

After three years of consistent hard work, the school has blossomed into a fine institution. It feels more and more natural as the libraries become more stacked with shelves and books, the cafeteria with more cooks and servers. There is a computer room that Shalnark personally funded, while Machi herself oversees the Healer Atara's clinic from time to time. Julia shows promise in medicine, spending more time in the clinic than her actual classes.

And the teachers—some were recruited and paid by the Danchou himself for their discretion first, and profession second. Others were carefully placed by Don Viper over the years, both acting as teachers and spies to keep everyone on their leash. Not that Valtiel minds—as long as no one is spilling blood on her white floors, everything should be well.

She passes a few teachers along the way, earning smiles and greetings. She smiles back and idles for a few minutes for a friendly conversation about their classes. She pats them on the shoulder and heads straight upstairs, wounding the stone staircase and pinpointing a certain classroom on the end of the hall.

The students are filing out one by one. Some are teenagers, while the others are much older, older than Valtiel herself. They pause at the threshold and bow to her.

"Good class today?" she asks, beaming at them.

"Yes, we learned about the Poem of Illium today," one of the teenagers chirps.

"It's a long one," an older gentleman adds, his dark hair thin over a splotchy forehead.

"Sounds interesting. I'd like to read that for myself."

It is almost lunchtime, so she lets them go. She enters the room and finds her subject.

He is a tall young man, with brown hair that quite reminds Valtiel of chocolate. Her stomach automatically grumbles at the thought. Today, he is wearing a light blue long-sleeved shirt and dark tie under his black vest, and a silver wristwatch. He is focused on his bright computer screen, but when he notices her approach, his blue-gray eyes brighten behind his glasses.

He stands gracefully, offering a hand. "Miss Eleison, good afternoon."

She keeps her smile reserved. "Good afternoon, Mr. Niles."

"Please," he says with a chuckle. "Alec is fine."

"You mentioned something about a curriculum proposal," she interjects, not welcoming a too-familiar friendship with one of her teachers. It would not look good if she starts playing favorites after three years of working here. Besides, she knows at least twelve people who would be more than happy to skin Niles alive if she so much as calls him 'Alec'.

He returns to his computer screen and turns the monitor around for her. "My class finished the Poem of Illium this week. I was searching for the sequel and it turns out that a copy of the Song of Illias would be presented in an auction in a few days."

She nods, observing the ancient hardbound book with its spine on the edge of collapsing.

"I was wondering if there's a way we could add this to our collection," he adds, opening another screen where the said book is being discovered by a group of amateur Paleograph Hunters.

"It would certainly be nice to acquire such a thing for our students," she answers after a few moments of consideration, "but it's an auction and a copy of an ancient book such as this would still most likely demand a high price. We don't have the funds for that."

"Yes, I thought you'd say that." Stubbornly, Niles opens up an email and shows it to her. He leans back as she inches forward to read the messages exchanged.

"You contacted the Mafia?" Valtiel hisses under her breath.

"They provide our funds, do they not?" he asks with a careless shrug. "If I could get your permission to get this book, and then the Mafia's approval for the fund, then we will have one of the most ancient books that shaped the current world." He blinks at her. "I thought this is worth a little struggle, don't you think?"

She straightens herself, inching away from his desk. "This is dangerous business," she says, trying to keep her voice neutral. She wants to frown to show how displeased she is, but as the school's director, she has an image to uphold.

This reckless, stupid, callow boy. On any normal day, if the Danchou is here, he would have reprimanded the young man at best, or exile him at worst.

Good thing Chrollo Lucilfer is not here.

Her phone starts ringing. She takes one look at the number—she never bothers to save his name—and answers it after the third ring.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mott."

Speaking of the devil.

"The email? Yes, I am aware of that." She could not help but glare at the young teacher's direction. He just smiles back, the bastard. "Yes, yes, I understand—" She goes back to the chattering Mafia associate. "No, you don't have to worry about anything. I'll handle it."

"Well?" he prompts, giving her a bright, expectant look.

"Well…" she drawls, weighing that look in his handsome face. Once upon a time, she had that same look, the same bright eyes when she was hopeful. She understands his enthusiasm, his passion for teaching, that it makes him oblivious and reckless sometimes.

"The Mafia doesn't want to fund this endeavor," she says at last, watching as the hope fades from his face, how it dims his eyes. She feels sorry for this disappointment. "Mr. Mott thinks it is too much time and paperwork for them to submit to Don Viper."

"Ah." Niles clears his throat as he closes the windows in his computer. "I understand."

"But he said I can do it myself if I'd like," she adds.

At once, the brightness returns. He stares up, mouth opening and closing in a wide grin.

She chuckles at how predictable he could be. This had been her, once. "Mr. Mott said I could go to this auction and acquire the book for myself," she explains. "So I don't see why we shouldn't go and take it for our school. You're right, Mr. Niles." She smiles. "It is worth a little struggle."

That night, she shares dinner with Machi, Kortopi, and her grandfather Ryence in the church. She goes upstairs afterwards, clacking heels resonating and bouncing off the walls. Her room with the Danchou is a lesser mess than her office, with no more than a few books and another laptop, with the same small bed.

She is about to remove her formal business attire when her phone rings. At this time of the night, only one person ever calls her. She doesn't even have to read his name.

"Hi, Danchou."

"Hello, darling." Chrollo's voice sounds heavenly after a long day of work.

"Where are you? What are you doing?"

"I just returned to my hotel from attending a black market auction." He sounds so proud of his accomplishment. The smugness is too evident in his tone. "How was your day, Val?"

"Oh, it was a long day. Too many reports and meetings. I'm about to hit the bed."

"My poor baby," he croons from the other line.

"Please don't start," she groans and he laughs at that.

"So, tell me about it all."

"Ach, long. First, I had a meeting about potential events we could organize for spring."

"Mm-hm, right," he drawls.

"One of the science teachers proposed an Easter Egg Hunt. Then I thought how ironic it is that a science teacher would propose such a religious activity."

"Well, science and religion would always coexist," he says reasonably. His line crackles for a bit as he moves in his room. "Are you in bed already?"

"Yes." She has finished removing her formal business attire and changed into more comfortable pajamas. She sinks into the bed, blanket tucked under her chin, as the lamp burns on her desk.

At once, the phone's screen changes. She takes a peek at it.

'Danchou would like to video call.'

She props the phone up against the desk. She hits the 'Accept' button and sighs against the pillow, as the Danchou's own screen pops up. Her own camera shows her already tucked in bed in the mini-screen in the top right corner.

He is seated in a luxurious high-backed chair. He wears a charcoal-gray double-breasted suit, open at the front to show his inner black shirt and tie. He runs his fingers through his raven hair as he sits back and smiles at the camera.

"There she is. Hello, beautiful."

"Good evening, Danchou," she mumbles, blushing. "When are you coming home?"

"I have a few more stops, then I'll come home," he reassures her. "Is everything alright? I sure hope that fool Niles is not flirting with you while I'm gone."

"He tries," she says, complacent. Chrollo's dark eyes flash at her. She laughs and waves the blatant threat off. "Speaking of Niles, he got us in trouble with Mr. Mott today."

"What did he do now?" he scoffs at this recurring problem.

She explains everything that happened and finishes her narration with a deep sigh. "So, to get us all out of trouble, I proposed that I'll attend the auction with Niles."

His lips press into a thin line. He is not pleased with this. "And where shall you get the funds? I could not imagine you scouring through the school's account to bid for a very expensive book."

She shrugs, twirling a lock of her hair. "Who said anything about paying for it?"

Suddenly, Chrollo's handsome face brightens. "Is this true?"

Valtiel immediately rolls her eyes. "Got you!" she retorts. On-screen, the Danchou frowns and deflates. "I'm not stealing anything. I do have enough extra money from the last mission. It should be enough for a small auction such as this."

"Sometimes, you break my heart."

"Only sometimes?"

"All the time," he corrects himself.

"The auction will take place in Zaban in three days," she says. "I'm planning to take Niles with me for the auction and get that book for the school." She bites at her bottom lip, fiddling with the hem of her blanket. Even after all this time, she still feels the need to ask. "I can go, right, Danchou?"

"You're not taking Machi or Kortopi?" is his first question.

"No, there's no trouble where I'm going."

"Love, my love." He clicks his tongue, smirking at the camera. "Trouble always has a way of finding you. I think we've already established that over the years."

"And I think we've already established over the years that I can protect myself," she shoots back.

His answer is a polite, knowing smile. "Of course I know that. I was merely teasing," he says with a fond chuckle. "So you would travel to Zaban with that fool Niles. How long do you think it would take for you to get back?"

She shrugs, settling back against the pillows. "Just a few days."

He purses his lip as he considers it. "In that case," he drawls, sipping from his wine glass, "you can go with that fool Niles—" He doesn't bother hiding the derision from his tone—"and then send him back to Meteor City afterwards. I'll come and meet up with you at Zaban."

Her eyes light up. "I'll see you soon then?"

He chuckles at her childlike enthusiasm. "Yes, beloved, we'll see each other soon." He finishes his wine and sighs. He rests his chin in his palm. At length, he murmurs, "I miss you, Val."

"I know." She laughs when he rolls his eyes. "So, tell me about your day. What did you get from the black market auction? And where's Paku-san and Bono-san?"

"They're out scouting for more treasures to steal. But!" Like an excited boy, he stands up from his elegant chair and goes off to retrieve his latest stolen book. He returns a few seconds later and shows a dark blue book with swirling golden calligraphy. "I told you about this before. It's the first and complete edition of Saint Lawrence's poems."

"Ah, yes, I remember." She smiles having to watch the Danchou show his new favorite book. Such an endearing sight for the Phantom Troupe leader.

"I haven't forgotten about you, of course." He beams and retrieves something else off-camera. He pulls out the same book, but the calligraphy at the front is written in a different text altogether. He could almost puff his chest out. "This is the same book, but written in Angeln. Is it not wonderful?"

"Oh, that's amazing," she gasps, laughing with him. "Thank you, Danchou."

"Anything for you, Val." He smiles softly. "Would you want me to read it to you?"

"I would love that." She adjusts the lamp's flames, so that it is smaller and the room dimmer. She smooths her cheek over the pillow and watches Danchou in the camera.

Chrollo has been gone for three weeks, travelling and hunting for new treasures and perhaps some new Nen abilities along the way. Every night, he calls her just before bedtime. And every night, just before she goes to sleep, he finds a book and reads a chapter or two until she falls asleep listening to his deep voice.

Tonight, it takes her only half a chapter. She is out, the exhaustion evident in her face. Chrollo watches her sleep for a few more minutes, a small smile playing across his lips.

"Good night, darling," he whispers to the already asleep Valtiel. "I love you."

And the video call disconnects.

That Fool Niles—that is what everyone in the Phantom Troupe calls him.

A young professor of languages, Alec Niles only had the opportunity because Don Viper had given him a position a year after the school started its business. A childhood friend and ardent suitor of his daughter Clelia—one that he could not kill, not really. So, Niles had been dumped into Meteor City, forcing the Elders' hands to adopt this little fool.

He is not at all bad, Valtiel supposes. He is younger than her by one year, but stands as tall as Phinks. He carries himself gracefully enough, but his stubbornness is always a headache.

"Why take this fool when you can take us instead?" Machi asks the most obvious question.

"Well, it was his idea," Valtiel answers with a careless shrug. She is in the middle of packing for the short field trip with said fool. "If we get into trouble, I can blame him first."

"Val, we both know that's not happening," Kortopi deadpans.

"You're afraid for him," Machi states, matter-of-fact.

Valtiel caresses the bridge of her nose. She turns around to face the Spiders. "Of course, you got me. Yes, I am afraid for him," she confesses. "He made the mistake of contacting Mott personally, and we all know how Mott is too self-important. He'd view the personal contact as a sign of disrespect. For all I know, he's sending his lackeys to round Niles up."

Kortopi shakes his head. "So, what's the problem? Let them round him up."

"I'll need a teacher for reading and writing, Kortopi-san."

"He's replaceable." Machi waves a hand dismissively.

"I won't have him killed for his stupidity, although I suppose that has been overdue." Valtiel gives them a tired smile. "Everything will be fine. I just need to get him out of the way while Mott stews over his fragile pride. Hopefully, when Niles gets back, Mott has forgotten all about it."

"You always look out for that fool," Kortopi sighs and Machi nods. "You'll get in trouble with Mott yourself if you keep doing this."

"As long as I can bat my eyelashes at him and he falls for it, then we're good." She snaps her luggage shut and smiles at them. "I'll be gone for a few days. Would you mind looking after the school while I'm gone?"

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Kortopi chuckles.

"Just be careful out there," Machi reprimands. "Zaban has been tumultuous lately."

"Nothing I can't handle." Valtiel waves gloved hand. "I'll see you."

The travel time from Meteor City to Zaban City is only seven hours, including land and air travel. Valtiel spends most of her time reading a book, while Niles is forever on his laptop, typing away and reminding her so much of Shalnark.

They arrive early in the morning, when the town is still rousing from its sleep. Their accommodation is modest, a small seaside bed-and-breakfast establishment. Valtiel eats her share of the warm breakfast, nibbling on her pancake, while Alec Niles sips his coffee across from her, occupied by his tablet this time.

"I have secured digital passes for today's auction," she starts, taking a whiff of the salty ocean breeze. Only a few days after New Year, the town is colder. "Should be in your email by now."

"Got them." He nods. His blue-gray eyes flit once at her face. "I'm sorry if you find me troublesome. I know your friends do." By friends, he means the Spiders, but none of the school staff know that they are in the midst of the Phantom Troupe members.

"It's no trouble at all," she assures him. She could tell that he is trying to soothe his nerves by immersing himself with his technology, but his constant hurried typing and jiggling knee give him away.

He needs to be calm if they want this to succeed. She changes her tune.

"So, Alec, do you have any siblings?"

Even he is surprised upon hearing his name from her for the first time. He considers for a bit, then nods again. "Yes, I have a younger brother. He's home right now with my grandparents."

She hums against the rim of her cup. According to his profile before Viper unceremoniously forced this man to the school, Niles's parents were killed after a failed robbery in a bank. Perhaps there is some truth to it, or perhaps it is one of Viper's creative ways to punish Niles without having to physically harm him.

He licks his lips, still poring over his tablet. "So, uh, I haven't seen Mr. Eleison lately?"

She smiles and sets the coffee down. "He's travelling," she answers. "He's the kind of man you cannot really tie down, no matter how. Always drifting with the wind, that one."

"Him and his friends, huh?"

The Spiders have come and gone in the past three years. Sometimes in pairs, others in groups of three, or on a rare occasion, just one. Valtiel is never truly alone on her own for so long, despite her acquired skills. She would not be surprised if Machi and Kortopi trailed her all the way here somehow.

She chuckles. "Yes, him and his friends." She sighs and stands up, her mental clock constantly keeping track of time. "We should prepare. We have two hours before the doors open."

In her own room, she takes a sweeping look over the horizon. The people are starting to move around, busy in their trades, smoking pipes and cigarettes to warm themselves. She draws the curtains close and changes into a more formal yellow double-breasted trench coat with a matching yellow scarf and low-heeled white shoes.

Meeting up with Niles at the lobby, he wears black overcoat with a brown scarf, complimenting his chocolate brown hair. He grins down on her and offers his arm, but she just smiles and walks ahead, her heels clicking.

The small auction will take place in a private library, only a few minutes walk from their accommodation. Valtiel keeps her gaze up ahead, alert for any signs of danger. So far, Zaban seems to be peaceful. No signs of any criminals or Mafia grunts.

Niles opens the door for her, and together they sweep into the library's main hall. There are chairs everywhere, a podium raised and a wooden pedestal on top. There are various paintings already for show, some marble busts and ancient weaponries and a diary. Valtiel sits three rows from the front, getting a good view of their target.

It would be easy to steal this. She frowns at the thought. Maybe she should have brought Kortopi. One quick work using his ability is all she would need. Mott doesn't even have to worry about anything.

Beside her, Niles jiggles his knee again. She puts a white-gloved hand over his knee.

"You're making it too obvious," she whispers, eyes lingering to where more businessmen stream into the hall, taking their seats and murmuring to one another. "Relax for me, Alec."

"How are you so calm?" he grumbles under his breath. "They could easily outbid us."

"I've done this dance a hundred times already." She beams. "Just act natural. Let me handle the bidding."

"Are-Are you sure?"

"Relax, Alec." She squeezes his hand. He visibly relaxes from the gesture and the sound of his name. She shakes her head inwardly. He makes it too easy.

An older gentleman steps up the podium and addresses everyone with warmth and familiarity. He has two other assistants standing by the corner, ready to wheel the items in. Valtiel and Niles watch as the items are presented and sold. When their ancient book comes into view, Niles sits a bit straighter and bounces his knee again. Valtiel, fighting the urge to sigh, glances over her shoulder and notices something.

There, at the very end of the seats, is a young man with stark white hair and dark eyes. He sits quite alone, back perfectly straight and hands folded in his lap. His dark, unblinking stare is glued to the presenter, taking no notice of Valtiel's curious stare.

Or he is adamant on ignoring her.

Suddenly, on the podium, the old presenter coughs in fits of blood. The audience screams and gasps, scrambling away from the platform, turning over chairs and bottled waters. Niles chokes back a gasp, in the middle of bolting to his feet, but Valtiel snatches his hand.

"Sit down," she whispers.

"What do you mean?!" he rasps, panicking. "Someone just died!"

"And you'll be next if you don't follow me," she murmurs.

"How—"

While the other guests are shouting at the locked doors and windows, Valtiel keeps seated, squeezing Niles's trembling hand in reassurance. She checks over her shoulder again—the young man is still there, unperturbed by the chaos, hands still in his lap.

One of the panicking guests pulls out a gun. "You better fucking open this door now!"

An assistant squeaks at the barrel aimed to his forehead. "Please, the police are on their way—"

Niles screams along as the gunshot sets off, spattering blood and brain matter across the threshold. He watches longingly as the other guests are fumbling with the lock, setting another round of gunshots to break the door's lock.

Valtiel tugs his hand. "It's time to go."

She glances at the white-haired man again, still in his seat, and swerves herself and Niles towards the platform. In one quick blur, she has the Song of Illias in her hand and stuffs it inside Niles's overcoat.

"And now we head to the back door," she sings, sidestepping the paintings and disappearing behind the shelves, their shadows mingling with the library's shadows.

"I don't understand," Niles sputters. He is tall, but he has a hard time keeping up with her quick, light steps. He stumbles like a drunkard beside her. "How do you know all this?"

"Keep walking, Alec."

At the end of the dim hallway, there is a closed door between bookshelves. She pushes Niles forward, desperate to get him out of the way. She feels the sudden shift in the air. Her blood is pounding in her head, instincts kicking in.

Niles turns around for her. She shakes her head. "Go! I'll meet you at the motel—"

Several pins fly to her direction and sink deeply to the wall beside her head. Gritting her teeth, she pushes Niles through the door and locks him out, muffling his insistent shouts.

"Didn't expect to see you here—of all places. You don't look any different from four years ago."

"I could tell you the same thing," she answers, turning around to face him, "but you've obviously changed." She tilts her head to the side. "What's the secret? Botox? Yoga? Black magic?"

"You don't need it," he assures her. "When I carve your pretty face off."

"You think I'm pretty? You make me blush."

The young man steps closer, allowing a shaft of sunlight fall into his face. He wears an elegant black suit for the event. He just stands there, unmoving like the several ornamental statues in the building, as if waiting for something interesting to happen.

Slowly, the thin aura surrounding his body dissipates—his short white hair turns into pitch black and extends all the way down to his hips, his dark eyes become softer and rounder, and his skin turns a sickly pale color. He tilts his head, blinking soulless black eyes at her.

"I saw you benefitted from my kill," Illumi Zoldyck notes, sounding somewhat amused. "You snatched my target's treasure during the confusion, like any hungry scavenger."

"You made it easy," she retorts—then maybe she shouldn't.

He disappears in a blur of black and lunges at her. She dodges to the side, movements slow and heavy from her trench coat. He follows her movements and throws a handful of needles. She sidesteps again, using the bookshelves as shields.

Illumi hums. "You're faster now," he muses, sauntering over to her hiding spot.

Valtiel forces a laugh. "Not fast enough, I suppose?"

He shakes his head and murmurs, "No," as he lunges again.

She throws her yellow coat to his face and pounces backwards, putting as much distance between them. Without the coat, she moves lighter and faster, and she narrows her eyes when Illumi waves her coat away from his face. His needles come flying next, catching her left cheek and cutting a long scratch.

Landing on the floor, she looks up as Illumi hovers above her, throwing more needles. She rolls out of the way and wraps herself in her aura.

The assassin lands gracefully in front of her, pausing and leveling the measure of her Nen.

"That is more refined as well." He throws one needle to test the waters, and she merely moves her head a few inches to the side to dodge it. His lips quirk, a slight indication of his amusement. Then he disappears, attacking her head-on, pins gleaming and aimed at her eyes.

Valtiel charges forward, meeting him halfway across the space. Her claws are pointed at his face. He swerves downwards to evade it, as his free hand wraps out Valtiel's wrist and gives a savage squeeze. She grimaces at the pain, but she has him where she wants him to be.

Close, face to face, his black eyes on her gold.

When the gold transitions into scarlet, like embers coming alive, Illumi senses the spike in her aura. He clutches her wrist even tighter and throws her across the other side of the room before she could unleash whatever ability she has in mind.

Her back hits a nearby statue. It shatters in a dust of white stones and smoke, as she slides down to the floor and winces at her broken left wrist. The skin is swollen, a purple bruise starting to form. She glares up as Illumi nonchalantly approaches and stares down on her.

Cornered with no backup, her primal instincts kick in. She growls.

"What do you even want from me?"

To her surprise, he crouches to her level and produces a handkerchief from his pocket. He offers it to her, gesturing to her swollen wrist. "You'll want to get it treated."

The first and last time she saw Illumi Zoldyck, he had tried to kill her for befriending his brother Killua. It was all but four years ago, back in Heavens Arena. He had come close to killing her if not for a certain magician. She does not know him personally, but she would bet on her life that Zoldyck assassins do not do this. Especially not Illumi.

She opens her mouth, dumbfounded, and then resorts to a scowl. "You have me confused, Mr. Zoldyck," she grates, forcing her usual formal tone. "What is this all about?"

"An acquaintance of mine is currently in town as well." He clutches her by the arms and gently pulls her back up to her feet. He takes it upon himself to wrap his handkerchief around the wrist. His touch is soft and calculated, and his eyes glance at her when she winces. "My apologies."

"Am I dead?" she asks, squinting closer. "Is this some sort of hell that I have to suffer? A Zoldyck assassin apologizing and tending to the wounds he caused?"

"Wouldn't that be something," Illumi sounds amused, "but no—you're not dead."

"Then what is this all about?" she demands again, still searching his face. "Where is the real Illumi Zoldyck and what did you do to him?"

"Hm, I understand now." He sounds wonderingly amazed.

"Understand what?" That you are absolutely crazy?

"You're sharp, I'll give you that."

"Wh-What?"

The back door creaks open. Illumi and Valtiel turn to it, as another individual approaches.

He is wearing a black velvet suit with a dark blue scarf tucked under the lapels. His red hair is down, falling across his eyes, and surprisingly, no face make-up. He could pass off as any respectable gentleman if no one knows any better.

Valtiel freezes on the spot, her throbbing wrist forgotten.

"So you decided to come, after all," Illumi starts. "I thought you wanted me to bring her to you."

"That won't be necessary, dear Illu. I can take it from here."

"You." She blinks twice, unbelieving. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd tell you—" He comes forward and offers his cheek to her. "If you admit that you have tired of Chrollo and now you've come running back to your one true love, to experience my warm embrace and feel the passionate love that we once shared—"

She shoves his face away with her good hand. "Why can't you just be normal and tell me you've missed me, Hisoka-san?"

He giggles like a little boy and embraces her instead, squishing her against his chest. "But where's the fun in that, dearest Val? How have you been? I haven't seen you in a long time."

"First and foremost." She draws away, glaring at him first, and then to Illumi. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you two together and since when did you become friends?"

"Acquaintances," Illumi interrupts politely. "We're acquaintances."

"Indeed." Hisoka smiles and notices her cradling her wrist. "What happened there?"

"Well," she huffs in the assassin's direction, "someone's acquaintance tried to kill me for reasons unknown, and I'm not about to name names."

"That was rude, Illumi," Hisoka says with a whine. "You'll hurt the lady's feelings."

"I merely wanted to see her cry," Illumi points out.

"You're crazy," she murmurs.

"I am sure you could think of something better than that," Illumi says.

Valtiel removes herself from Hisoka and comes stomping towards the assassin. He towers over her, and when he meets her eyes, his face remains blank. She raises her uninjured arm and aims to slap him in the cheek—but Illumi effortlessly catches her wrist, his lips once again quirking into the smallest hint of a smirk.

Then she raises her broken wrist and slaps him on the other cheek. His face is suspended to the side, still emotionless, but the amusement bubbles in both men.

Illumi turns to her, his cheek stinging and pale red. "There you go."

Author's Notes: FINALLY! After all this time, we finally reach the canon manga/anime timeline! I asked a long time ago if we should go the timeskip route, and the majority voted for yes. I hope this kind of skip is doable—apologies if it isn't. There isn't much in the canon timeline to work with, and if I filled that remaining three year limbo, it will take us 30 more chapters before we reach the Hunter Exam arc, lmao. Starting from this point, we'll know the course of the story—just with Valtiel added in it. I'm sure we've had the 'OC takes the Hunter Exam' trope a thousand times already, so I'll try not to rewrite it verbatim (and hope it turns out alright).

On to this chapter, I'm excited to bring Hisoka and Illumi back into the plot! I missed writing Hisoka and his shenanigans, and I'm excited to write Valtiel's weird budding relationship with our favorite big brother assassin Illumi.

I will be, however, taking a break for the holidays. I'm traveling around to visit several relatives who live in different cities, so I won't have time to edit and publish more chapters until next year. I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you understand! Meanwhile, let me (shamelessly) endorse my old Christmas side story with Valtiel and the Spiders—"Hieme Araneaerum", for more of your reading pleasure.

*UrPrettyOne - Chrollo and the Spiders really out there plotting what to do with Val, while Feitan being soft and considers protecting her. My baby. I've seen several people from here (and in AO3) suggest that FeiVal might be actually a thing and I'm just *evil laugh 👀* Thank you for reviewing! Happy holidays!

*Guest - Just imagine Valtiel and Kurapika accidentally bumping into each other during the exam... Chrollo's gonna have an aneurysm from three countries away lmao! Thank you for stopping by! Enjoy your holidays!

Thank you all for reading this chapter. So happy and excited that we're able to get to this turning point in the story! Thank you all for the patience throughout the years! Cheers to everyone who's been with me this year, and who will still be here in the next. Happy holidays and wishing you all the best! Happy New Year, friends! ❤️🎄