EARLY UPDATE. Woot woot. Look at me, being all responsible and keeping promises; this has never happened in my updating history. *Throws confetti around.
Since I just annoyed you with one of my usual lousy rants last week, I am going to be sparing you this time. Let's unveil this plot mystery now? Thank you to every reader out there who gives this story a chance. Dig in?
Chapter: 22
"Surreptitious."
"How do you go back to being strangers with someone
who has seen your soul?"
— A Question That Bleeds, Nikita Gill.
Life, for me, was an apodictic tapestry that was mainly fastened with strings of ignominious and perplexing moments; regardless of that, the plight that I was currently experiencing wasn't one I recovered from right away and the presence of my former boyfriend slash assassin wasn't the most improbable cause of that.
"Why am I not surprised?" Killua boasted in an inconceiviably balmy tone, still studying my face like an assignment. "You know, if they'd issue a warrant for your search, it wouldn't be hard at all to dig you out; just look in the places where you're not supposed to be."
I blinked at him. He didn't throw a tantrum and I could hardly take that in. "Hilarious," I commented; if I wasn't delusional, it almost seemed as if he was genuinely content to see me.
"I see you've taken up snooping as a profession," he enunciated as he held his hand out for me.
I rolled my eyes and took it as he helped me duck out from under the table I had so marvelously concealed myself under. "I know this looks bad," I asserted, feigning composure. "But actually, it's a complex—" I paused to select the proper words. "Coincidental coincidence," I concluded.
He arched an eyebrow, his features something inbetween smug and entertained. "Coincidental coincidence?" he repeated amusingly.
I grimaced at him, unimpressed by his wordplay. "How about you let go of this sad attempt at humour?" I shot, not breaking eye-contact.
"I will, if you let go of my hand," he acceded with a shit-eating smirk, enlightening me of the fact that my fingers were curled around his.
I jerked back abruptly and tried to appear unaffected. It was really bewildering that he was basically barking at Isawa mere seconds ago and now he was quipping around like an over-excited dog. "Multiple personality disorder," I mumbled assuring myself.
"What did you say?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes.
"Nothing." Or maybe he had gone completely bersek due to our captivating skirmishes; it was good to know I was the one keeping it together for once. "I didn't say anything."
He gave me a chary look and pursed his lips. "What are you, ten?"
I squinted at him, holding back the urge to stick my tongue out at him.
"Killua? Is someone there?" Gon asked poking his head out of the room and meeting my eyes.
"Don't worry, just an inconvenient snitch," Killua explicated, putting his hands in his pockets.
I crossed my arms around my chest. "Right next to your usual cynical bitch."
"Aw, the little idiot can rhyme," he cooed, patting my head.
I leered at him. "Do you really wanna end up with a bald patch?"
"I don't know," he mused, mocking me. "Do you wanna end up with an eye-patch?"
"Jackass."
"Halfwit."
"Dullard."
"Imbecile."
"Moron."
"Will you two give it a rest?" Gon interrupted, oggling back and forth between the two of us as if there was a chunk missing from our heads.
"I didn't start it," Killua and I defended simultaneously. The two of us gaping at each other before the sentence was even completed. "I started it?" We both repeated in unison. "You—"
"Stop it!" Gon groaned. "I think we were in the middle of something that was slightly more significant than your vehement bickering," he reminded, illustrating the magnitude with a needle sized distance between his fingertips.
There was a silent juncture in which everyone just stared at each other. "Well?" I demanded trying to understand the quietude.
"Well, what?" Killua debriefed, turning to look down at me.
"Are you seriously gonna end it at Isawa's major cliffhanger?"
He scoffed and raised his eyebrows as he caught the casualness in my voice. "What makes you think you're staying?" he punched subtly.
"What makes you think I'm not?" I retorted, matching my tone with his.
"Do I really look like I'm asking for your opinion?"
"Do I look like I would give a damn about yours?"
He blinked warily at me. "What is wrong with you? Why would you even want to be here?"
"I wanna know the whole story," I murmured.
"Why?" he probed confused.
"Because—it's intriguing." I shurgged.
"Yeah, well, sadly it's none of your business so," he informed with a humourless smile.
"Technically speaking, it's none of yours either," I retaliated fluently.
"Excuse me?" he challenged, speaking louder.
"Gon's dad, his business," I rubbed in, gesturing towards the undersigned. "So, basically he gets to decide who stays and who doesn't."
Killua scowled at me and we both turned to face Gon who was staring back dumbfounded.
"I don't believe it," Killua seethed as he laughed mirthlessly for a second. "You're actually gonna listen to her?"
There was a very lengthy and soundless moment in which Killua and Gon just gawked at each other but it was so intense it appeared they were making use of telepathy, then Killua simply shook his head in a very slow manner and glared at him. "Brainless idiot."
With these two words uttered, he sauntered back in the direction of the room they had come out of. I trailed behind noiselessly, stopping as I spotted Mr. Isawa seated on a chair as comfortably as if he was on a vacation with the exception of his hands tied up firmly behind him.
His eyes lit up with amusement when our gazes met. "Miss Gaspardo," he welcomed warmly. "Please have a seat," he invited with his eyes. "And you must not worry, this isn't quite what it looks like." The way he spoke made me reflect so deeply on the fact that a man with such a formal way of speaking deserved at least a well perfected british accent to go with it.
I peered at him, thinking for a moment that his convincing tone was only for humour. "Uh—I know everything," I notified, indicating for him to save the crap for someone else.
His eyebrows shot up along with one side of his mouth. "Oh, well in that case, this is exactly what it looks like."
I was in the middle of rolling my eyes at him when I caught the intense glare with which Killua was addressing me from barely two inches away.
Unexpectedly, he leaned in and had me holding my breath as a reflex. "You speak one word in between and I'll have you flying down that window, understood?" he whispered in my ear and walked away, leaving me behind rigid as the walls around us.
"So, are you going to continue or should I roll down a carpet for you?" Killua summoned boringly.
"You're going to have to be more specific, Mr. Hayashi," he advised with such serenity that made me question probably everything in sight, mostly I just kept studying the expressions of the three men before me.
Killua's jaw shifted slightly and my eyes darted to his fist and just a second's survey told me that if I still would've been holding his hand, my fingers wouldn't exactly come out erect. "Yeah, you got us all agog, now for fuck's sake, can we pass through this shit?"
Mr. Isawa slightly twitched before acquiring an uninterested look.
"Suppose what you're telling us is true," Killua commenced with a more composed tone. "And Ging Freecss did come to you, I'm certain it wasn't to borrow a milk carton, so how about you elaborate on the reason, sir?" he added in the most mocking way that word could ever be said.
"He wanted information," he stated briefly.
"About what?" Killua countered almost immediately.
"As you've mentioned before, two Zodiac members withdrew from the election five years ago and adventitiously enough, they were in leading positions with the majority of the votes; it's such a badly covered up story that it already sounds disreputable even as I recount it," Mr. Isawa derided with a vague expression. "Such empty-headed, ravenous slobs they are, these mafia people."
"You're one to speak," Killua interjected with no hesitation. "The glint of your purity ring, it blinds me." The contrast between his manner of speaking and words was so farcical, I couldn't help the chortle that escaped me but it was after staring into Killua's enlivened eyes that I realised I wasn't the only one; Gon stood by me covering his mouth with his hand and struggling not to make eye contact.
"I'm not objecting, you may categorise me as one of them but in my defence I will say that as a human, I am easily disorientated by my nature."
"Or informally speaking, you're a greedy, bitchy little bastard, idiotic enough to have the keys to this shit hole swiped away by a girl you slept with, who I should boldly mention wasn't even half the half of your age and judging by that, those 'empty-headed, ravenous slobs' are looking like saints right now," Killua censured with absolute ease.
The muteness that followed spoke in volumes as Mr. Isawa and Killua held each other's stare for a prolonged instant. "All of this is out of the context, and I believe you were keen to know about the whole election scandal," Isawa diverted with absolutely no hinderance or constriction.
One corner of Killua's lips lifted up in that asshol-ish way of his and he could now safely assume that he had Mr. Isawa carefully wedged between his indictments. "By all means, please proceed," he lead, his smile broadening.
Just before his gaze settled on the man in front of him, his eyes shifted up to meet mine; it was the malicious gleam they held that made me consider the possibility that he had expertly manipulated his circumstances according to his needs and assured me that Mr. Isawa's sudden agitation and discomfiture at the broaching of his prior procurements was most likely because of my presence.
"If I describe it briefly, the whole election period and the series of conspiracies it is saturated with, it's revolting. But the thirst for power, it's intense enough to allow any methods to attain your objective and you can be sure that massive use is made of this principle, be it death or what can be regarded as worse; because anyone who strives for dominance inaugurates their ambition with a murder and the first target is their conscience."
The inelastic stare Killua had fixated on him was so hollow yet so opaque at the same time. It seemed as if he was calculating angles from his words that someone couldn't even fathom existed. "Who was killed?" he asked quietly, deciphering the meaning effortlessly.
"No body was found, but the murder of Cheadle Yorkshire was verified," the heavy halt that proceeded made my eyes glue to Killua's face, making sure to register his every reaction. "And Ging Freecss was accused of it," Isawa prepended earnestly.
Both Gon and Killua flinched so suddenly, it came to me as a surprise that they didn't break their necks.
"He would never—" Gon barricaded harshly.
He was silenced straightaway by Killua as he held up his hand to a side. "You said accused of," he foregrounded. "Either it's your belief that he's innocent or he actually is."
Mr. Isawa simpered with an astonished look. "Your acuity, Mr. Hayashi, it's overwhelming."
Killua's face remained as expressionless as it was priorly. "Don't skid off."
He threw him a curious stare before resuming. "As I've stated previously, there are no defined extents or rules to the brutality one can acquire in a contest for power but there is one directive that is as mandatory as not to require any mentioning, in light of that, it is common knowledge that the basic skeleton of the authority is manipulated by the underworld and whatever group subjugates the underworld is ultimately steering the entire system like an expert puppeteer and the whole process is so reticent and artful as to convince the measly pawns that they actually have a hand in establishing it. The candidates may all be allowed to take part but the final selection of, say the—" he searched for the appropriate label. "Top dog, is made by our surreptitious wheeler-dealers."
"What's even the point of having an election then?" I catechized with uncertainty.
"Consider the complete procedure to be crumbs, thrown around to settle the electorate like good pacified pigeons, deluding them into buying that they have a voice or their opinion matters. They are duped enough to believe that they select who governs them, call it a dictatorial democracy," he jested with a smile. "And the most extraordinary part is that even those who are aware of this clever swindle, are astute enough to accept it like a good religious credence that isn't dared to be questioned; after all, it is my belief that there is no gap that money can not fill."
Killua's eyes darted to me for an instant before he repositioned them at his subject. "Why him? Why come up with an absurd story just to frame Ging Freecss?"
Mr. Isawa nodded with ease and readjusted himself with his hand still intricately behind him. "See, the underworld isn't used to opposition or dare I say, they have no faith in it's existence. The only thing they are familiar with is shaping the structure according to what favours them, and your father," he said, holding Gon's gaze. "Isn't a man that can be moulded. Ging Freecss was nonsensical enough to hold the ambition of trying to alter the filthy structure set up by them, I think he wanted to make himself known as a reformist or maybe his morality forced him to speak up, but doubtlessly it was the biggest mistake of his life."
"So, that was it? They blamed him for a murder and he disappeared?" Killua debriefed, frustrated.
"Momentarily," Isawa corrected. "Until simply hiding wasn't option anymore after a highly enticing reward was placed on his head, he had no choice but to keep running and it wasn't long before it dawned upon him that his life wasn't anything short of a living hell and continuing that way, no licence, no resources, didn't exactly seem a long lasting plan."
"That's when he came to you," Gon elaborated, holding a very stern expression.
"And emerged with a new, intricate scheme of his: attempting to take his adversaries down. Now you can see just what kind of an absurd thinking that man has; firstly, he was foolish enough to get himself into trouble and stubborn enough not to even admit it and afterwards he had his mind set on taking down the whole wave of his conspirer. I told him it was like trying to exterminate the ground he was walking on, ultimately he would be the one to go overboard, but if Ging Freecss actually listened to anyone, he wouldn't be messed up in the first place."
"What did he want from you?" Killua questioned, one of his eyes twitching with impatience.
"I worked for the biggest intelligence agency in the country, what do you think he wanted from me?"
"Information," I responded before realising Killua had spoken along as well.
"Regarding the opponent faction; he was so endorsed in the actual success of his strategy that I too started believing he had a chance, he had this way with motivation," Isawa confessed shaking his head in dismay.
"Why would he come to you? Did you two associate previously?" he probed dubiously.
"No, but he saw a latent helper in me, let's just say that I was the most approachable person at that time."
"What did you get out of helping him?"
Isawa's eyebrows arched and he laughed a silent laugh. "What didn't I get out of helping him? I was five days away from my retiral, he struck the most convenient deal I could ever have fathomed. In exchange for the data he allowed me to take credit for his arrest; he wanted information, I wanted reputation and needless to say, I got more than what I thought I would ever have. My exit from the organization couldn't have been more respectable."
"So, you gave him what he needed and let him go?"
"I must confess, I had decided in the end that our trade only involved me giving him the information, it wasn't my concern to help him escape but surprisingly he disappeared within an hour after I handed it over; I still can't understand how he actually got away but he is a living, breathing mystery so, nothing uncanny there."
"Did it work?" Gon finally spoke. "His tactic?"
Isawa scoffed mercilessly. "Be honest," he pleaded, boring his gaze into Gon's. "Even as you speak of it, does even a grain of that strategy seem reasonable to you?"
On yielding no answer, he raked the three of us with his eyes before slouching his shoulders forward.
"Excuse my language, but Ging Freecss was nothing short of an idiot. Five years ago, that was the last I saw of him and it isn't too improbable that he's already been taken down confidentially."
"The bastard's bluffing," Killua assured Gon when he saw the trepidation that had spread on his features." He stood up swiftly, loomed towards Isawa and knelt down before his binded figure. "I've been putting up with you since an hour just because you were the most potential connection I had to Gon's father and after that extensive crap you just uttered, it's pretty clear that not only are you as clueless as we are, but you've also wasted sixty minutes of my precious time."
Isawa's mouth perked up in a beguiled grin. "Well, Mr. Hayashi, I did warn you beforehand."
A very dark look crossed over Killua's face and his lips twitched with rage. "You have twenty seconds to give me one good reason not to slit out your throat right now; and by the way, it's not Hayashi," he corrected, exposing his horrifying claws. "It's Killua Zoldyck."
Suddenly, all the blood drained from Mr. Isawa's his face. For the first time ever, I saw a look of utter and complete terror take over his expression; his previous tranquil mask vanished as it had never been there in the first place. "I—" I couldn't believe my eyes, but he was actually stuttering. "I can tell you where you'll be able to acquire documentation about him."
"Speak fast, nineteen," Killua counted with no hesitation.
"The—the JCI; I am certain there is still an open case anent him."
"Not good enough, would've figured out that much on our own, eighteen," he rejected immediately.
"I can help you infliltrate, it would be impossible for you to get in without my help," he stressed nervously.
"Elaborate, seventeen."
"I—" It wasn't hard to tell that Isawa was absolutely blank on what to say next. "If you give me some time, I know can figure something out."
Killua answered with a crooked smile. "Sorry, but do I look like I'm taking shit?" he interviewed in a mockingly horrifying manner. "Sixteen."
I stared between the two of them and then at Gon, who was observing the interaction with interest. "He's not serious, is he?" I confirmed.
Gon shrugged and faced me with an ambiguous expression. "No idea."
His reply left me with unease.
"I'll be nice," Killua coaxed. "You won't feel a thing, afterall, that's a big grant considering how much you got on my nerves today."
"You'll lose even the slightest chance you have to get in that edifice," Isawa played his last cards, now visibly unstable with fear.
"Well, you're alive right now, aren't you? Give me a good decoy and I'll consider sparing your ass," he proposed.
"The auction," I inserted, catching everyone's attention. "It's being held in the JCI premises this year," I clarified when I saw the confused look on Killua's face. "Top-notch security."
"There you go," Mr. Isawa emphasised relieved.
Killua raised an eyebrow at him. "She said it," he reminded gesturing towards me. "That doesn't explain why I have to let you off." One of his sharp talons was now in contact with the skin on Isawa's neck.
His face turned paler than my usual complexion and the way his eyes went hazy, was a clear indication that he was struggling his mind to come up with anything that could aid in keeping him alive. "I—I have the digital blueprints of the entire complex," he finally shot, breathless with effort. "And I can guide you," he added, balming his chances at survival.
Killua finally looked somewhat close to convinced. "Go ahead," he congratulated drawing back. "Continue your pathetic life."
"Once you do manage to invade, how are you planning on breaking in the systems?" I raised doubt, intertwining my fingers anxiously. God, I had no idea what I was doing now.
Killua's visage turned impassive when he registered my words. "No," he stated without a moment's thought as he faced me.
"What?" Gon inquired muddled, not yet reaching the point Killua and I had.
"Why?" I challenged.
"Don't you dare even think about it."
"You idiot, I can help you," I persuaded.
"I don't need your help; it's not your business," he firmly retorted.
I glared at him. "I was talking about Gon and do I have to remind you again that these are his matters?"
"Okay," he finalised. "That's it." He approached me losing his composure.
"What's going on?" Gon asked as he stepped in between, blocking his path to me.
"Well, she suddenly got the idea to get involved," he responded, shifting his head to catch a glimpse of me.
"Yeah, well you haven't answered my question; it would be meaningless for you to go without having a way to hack through the database." I stood on my tiptoes to make myself seen behind Gon's figure.
"Not your concern and you're not the only I.T wizard in the world," he countered.
"How do you know you can trust whoever you hire?" I retaliated unabashed.
"I said no."
"It's not your decision to make," I provoked. "If Gon wants me to help him, you can't say anything."
"You little—" he began but broke off and turned to Gon. "Shut her up."
"He doesn't have to take orders from you, he's an adult," I reasoned.
Gon's eyes shifted from one side to the other as he took in our argument.
Killua's eyelids shook with anger. "She's trying to persuade you, don't listen to her."
"No, I'm not and I'd hate to break it to you but this little mission of yours isn't as easy as having good hair or getting into people's pants," I blurted out.
He froze and his eyes broadened with wrath. "Oh, you did not just say that."
"Aw, well, I did—"
"Hey—hey!" Gon tore off, pushing Killua back. "Stop fighting!"
It was after he made sure that we were both a safe distance apart that Gon turned to me. "Claire," he underlined slowly. "Killua's right, you can't."
"But I want to. Help," I added gradually and behind him, Killua gave me a triumphant look.
"You don't have to and I would never want you to put yourself in risk like that."
"No," I shook my head. "You don't understand." I affirmed taking a breath."You've been there for me at times I wasn't even sure of anything anymore, both of you," I appended looking away. "And I know that I can't repay that but let me at least feel like I can be of some use to you, in any way. And if it really is risky, I promise I'll drop out but right now there is one thing I'm sure of and that is that you guys have just as much idea of how unsafe this is as I do, which is basically— nothing. So, helping you out is my decision and I'll play by your rules if that's what you want but I'm in." When I relocated my gaze back up, both of them were staring at me stupefied but it was Killua's equivocal peer that rendered me unable to speak further.
Prior to any response being made, the two of them looked at each other and seemed to be making use of their psychometry once more. Gon blinked twice and Killua's eyes twitched for a second before they finally turned their attention back to me.
"Fine," Killua gave in, meeting my eyes directly. "But keep in mind, you're gonna have do it my way, tigress."
After he was done with his final chain of ultimatums and threats to Isawa and distinctive comminations to me, Killua exited motioning for Gon to follow.
"Uh—I don't mean to be insensitive," I chirped, confronting Mr. Isawa, who still appeared somewhat disoriented and shaken. "But what about the speech?"
He flickered his eyelids and swallowed. "I—I will e-mail it to you," he expounded in a nebulous voice; I judged that this was the right reaction to have after meeting a real live Zoldyck face to face.
"Right—uh, okay—yeah," I stammered, swiftly making my way out and exhaling deeply as the door shut behind me.
When I made it down to my car, I searched my pockets twice for my keys only to find them empty; I became absolutely motionless when I actually did spot them, sitting right on the driver's seat, in my locked car. In the name of fuck—I had just locked my keys inside my car.
"This is not happening," I refused, pressing my forehead against the glass to make sure I had seen correctly, unfortunately even after blinking seven times, the keys were still there.
In my periphery, I saw Killua stroll ahead of me with a huge grin on his face.
"Why are you smirking?" I demanded with a scowl.
"It's a free country," he replied holding up his keys and pressing the unlock button. "I can do whatever the hell I want." The car beeped and he swung the keys around his finger. "Unlike you," he adjoined. "You can't even get in your car," he choked out and began guffawing like a motherfucking idiot.
I kept glowering at him in the whole actual two minutes that he kept laughing until Gon showed up with a bewildered expression on observing Killua's fit. "Let me guess," he evaluated turning to me. "He made a joke."
I pinched the bridge of my nose and took in a deep breath.
"What happened?" Gon asked him when he was done at last.
Killua cleared his throat and struggled to keep his face straight. "She—" he attempted but burst out laughing again.
"What?"
"I FUCKING LOCKED MY KEYS IN MY CAR, HILARIOUS, NOW ARE YOU DONE?" I shot at the barking asshole who was still chuckling.
"I have never even seen this happen in a movie," he boasted putting a hand on his forehead.
"Killua, shut up," Gon mumbled rolling his eyes.
I sighed and pulled out my phone.
"What are you doing?" Killua debriefed.
"Calling my mom?" I explained, raising my cell to my ear.
He took it from me and ended the dialing, lowering my hand. "Why are you being so formal? I'll take you home," he remarked with an eyebrow raised, like he couldn't even begin to understand why I would consider anything else.
"I—my car—" I commenced pointing my thumb towards it.
"Don't worry," he relieved. "I'll drop it off, I promise."
I couldn't decide whether I wanted to slap myself or him because it was only this guy standing in front of me who could go from bastard to thoughtful in two seconds.
"Okay," I accorded as I watched Gon get in the backseat. "Thanks." I walked to his car and moved to open the back door before he snapped his fingers at me.
"I'm not your personal driver, Claire," he rubbed in with a smug mien as he walked round the hood to get to the driver's seat. "Get in the front."
I huffed and pulled the door handle back, just as I was about to get in, I stepped on my boot and would've crashed right on the dashboard if Killua hadn't intervened and stretched out one of hands to stop the collision.
When the initial disturbance of the event passed, only then did we both realise where his hand was. Killua immediately withdrew his palm that was wedged between the car drawer and my chest. His face rapidly acquired the colour of fire and he fastened his seat belt with just a little too much force.
I bit my lip and hid my face behind a curtain of my own hair. If it was humanly possible, he seemed a lot more embarrassed than I felt. Taking a risky chance, I glance back to see Gon's reaction but thankfully in the name of whatever it was that lead the cycle of humiliation, he was so immersed in the screen of his phone that he didn't even seem to be aware of our presence.
Killua kept fidgeting with various objects he had thrown around the section of the front and I was pretty sure he had forgotten how to start the car. It continued in the same manner for a few seconds until he muttered something, rubbing his face.
"What did you just call me?" I inquired, my eyebrows knotting together.
He cast me a side glance. "A klutz?"
"No," I refused, shaking my head. "You said slut."
He met my eyes and snorted. "Why would I call you that? You don't even know how sex works—" he stopped mid sentence when he realised what he had just said.
I winced, staring at him stunned. "You did not just say that."
He pursed his lips and scratched his head. "I'm sorry, that was—"
I tried my best to get a clear aim of his face but he shifted so swiftly, I found myself panting after a few useless attempts at smacking him.
"I'm sorry," he repeated grabbing my wildly moving hands and pinning them to a side. "I didn't mean it, that slipped—you can yell but not the face, please—how about you have some water, you like water, right?" he suggested, fluctuating between his words like an idiot.
I sucked in a deep breath, knowing very well I had no chance to escape with force from his iron-clad grip, and just gazed at him; getting enough hold of myself to compose my features. All my current rage seemed to be blocking my windpipe. "Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea," I had actually managed to make my voice sound convincing.
"Yeah?" His tone was guarded, like he knew just how absurd the mere thought of this truce was.
"Yeah—yes, totally." I continued to nod, peeking at Gon in my peripheral vision, who was now observing the exchange silently.
He took out a water bottle from the dashboard drawer and handed it to me.
About five seconds later, I unscrewed the lid and without further thought held it over his head, watching intently as the water flowed down his hair to his visage.
The expression on his face was honestly the most priceless and satisfying thing I had ever seen. It was about halfway empty when he grasped it from my hands and relocated it so it poured over my hair. "Bitch," he cursed through clentched teeth.
I caught the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, making the bottle slip from his hand. "You know, it's so funny to hear this coming from a mamsy pansy like you who couldn't help but wet his pants every time the word sex was even mentioned," I blowed, clawing my gaze into his.
His eyebrows shot up abruptly. "I wet my pants? You were the—"
"Shut up, Killua, it was you—damn it, it was always you—you even gave me a complex because of it at some point," I disclosed mindlessly.
His eyes enlarged and adapted a look between surprise and regret. "What?" he debriefed distressed.
Promptly, the sound of a door opening registered in my brain and we both turned around to see Gon exiting in a hurry.
"Gon?" Killua called in confusion.
"NO," he stated not looking back.
"What's wrong—"
"I'm not hearing this," he announced loudly. "Talk over your issues, please," he begged, spinning briefly around to shut the door. "I wanna walk—I have to walk," he added hastily. "Clear my head—of thoughts." With this said he sauntered forward until a very small figure was visible in the rear view mirror.
I face-palmed and shook my head. "Great."
"Did you doubt yourself because of me?" Killua questioned with guilt saturating his voice.
I held my breath before giving him a response. This was so humiliating, I couldn't even understand how it had even been brought up now. "Initially," I admitted after a sigh. "And maybe even after a little later but—"
"Why would you do that? And over something so unimportant, is that why you starting biting your nails?" he guessed on point.
"It might not a big deal to you Killua, but it was to me, because what is a girl supposed to think when after dating someone for over four months, they never even bring up the topic?"
"And then?" he resumed. "You stopped; I'm betting you had theories."
I couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh at the absurdity of this situation. "Yeah—I had three."
"Of course, you began by targeting yourself."
"Yeah, I thought there was something wrong with me and then—I thought there was something, well—different about you," I mumbled.
Killua shifted his gaze to me and scratched his head. "You thought I was gay," he calculated astutely.
"Well, what else was I supposed to think?" I barricaded.
"Tell me your last and I'll let you in on mine," he proposed.
I covered my face with my hands. "This is the most embarrassing one."
"I wanna know," he pushed.
I bit my lip. "I thought—I thought you were religious—I thought your dad was a pastor or something, you had beliefs—and then after that night at Naomi's party, that's why it bothered me so much. You considered any random girl worth it, but not me and then again—God, I wanna know why," I breathed anxiously.
"Claire," he spoke my name gently, like it was made of glass. "I can't believe you're comparing yourself to—" he broke off and straightened his position. "When I was with you, I was in a constant trajectory of what was right and what felt right; the guilt and the way I tried to convince myself that I wasn't wrong, it eventually all mashed up together and it—it tortured me. I didn't know the lines I wasn't supposed to cross, hell, I didn't even know what those lines were. You bared yourself emotionally to me, I saw every layer and—but that part of you, if—if I let that happen Claire and you found out about me after, I know you would've hated me; you wouldn't have forgiven me, I wouldn't have either."
I looked at him mutely. "Killua—"
"No, if it made you think that there was something missing in you—God damn it Claire, I've never been attracted to anyone the way I am to you and I'm sorry I never told you that you're beautiful, the way guys are supposed to do—I just—I always thought you knew, but if you need to hear it—Claire, you're gorgeous, but the thing is that you have to keep in mind that whatever I say now won't change what I stand by—you have to stay away from me and I want you to never shatter your confidence over something so stupid, do you understand?" he asked, taking my hand.
I couldn't help the way my heart sped-up, I didn't want his touch to still have that effect on me. "You're right—I would've hated you but I don't and I can't and— God, what you said just made me step back on every word I spoke in that elevator—I didn't mean any of it, I was angry and stupid and unreasonable but—it took me two months to have enough courage to say this but you were right and you did nothing wrong. Your personal life should've stopped being my concern when—thing is, I was nobody to slam you for that because—who am I to you?" I debriefed feeling myself go hollow.
His eyelids shook as he took my words in. "Claire—"
"I have no right in your life and let me say this out loud, that's how I think I'm gonna accept it. And you know what Killua? I'm not forgetting all the time we had together, because it was the best I had in my life but it's true, good things come to an end and I can't promise you, I'll be able to right now, but I'll try to move on. But I can't hate you Killua and nothing you do can make me. This is kind of like the rain, you know? It comes, it pours, it cleanses, it leaves memories but ultimately, it ends. I honestly don't know why people symbolise it as something indicating sorrow, I love the rain Killua; you were the rain in my life."
I tried not to focus too much on the misery occupying his eyes. The way he kept blinking, he looked so lost, I could hardly image what thoughts were scattered in his mind right now.
"I know I'm not supposed to say this," I annexed, tracing my thumb on the hand with which he was holding mine. "But I miss you, I miss everything about you—" my voice started shaking and I had to take a breath to find it again. "The taps on my window and the way you look at me—your stupid puns and that annoying laughter—the way you smell and freezing night drives with the windows down—" I quickly wiped my face because I already knew I wouldn't be able to hold these feelings in my skin. "—and even those crappy little dolls of yours."
The melancholy didn't even for a second falter from his visage but he managed a wry little smile. "Action figures," he amended.
My whole body vibrated with a silent chuckle. "They're still dolls Killua." I couldn't understand how a person could laugh and cry at the same time, but I was manic enough to do that.
"What about your shitty star books, like they're the definition of class." He mimicked vomiting, gesturing with his hand in front him.
"Yeah, well my astrology booklets are still better than your dumb video games and the inhumane noises you make when you're going down like a sore loser."
He scoffed at me. "Really? What about you? I get you still haven't dropped that shitty habit of putting your shoes on my seat," he observed my boots that were indeed perched on the edge of the seat.
"It didn't annoy you before," I deduced grimacing.
"Before what? The big bang?" he scoffed, making a sarcastic face.
"Here's a newsflash for your third class, bull shit humour: Katie's better at it than you and she can't even talk," I rejoindered.
"Of course it would seem that way to you, you're both coincidentally having the same mental age."
"Yeah, you're sure living up to your chronological one by collecting dolls," I shot back.
"Action figures," he recorrected, stressing on the two words like his life depended on them. "And it's still a lengthy rank below naming your hair brush," he miffed.
"At least I have enough sanity not to laugh at my own jokes."
"Suddenly, you're the pioneer of sanity, well here's hint: sane people don't cut their hair off in anger."
"Really? What do they do? Have a peace tea party with their dolls?"
He took a gander at me, narrowing his eyes. "No, they just keep tripping on their own feet until the inner war ends."
"Jackass," I affronted, not coming up with neither a good response nor a new insult.
"Idiot."
"Asshole."
He clicked his tongue instead of answering with a comeback and shook his head. "I know how to settle this," he nudged, raising his finger.
"Not thumb-wrestling, you always win at that," I refused immediately. "It's like going against a crow bar."
"What about rock, paper, scissors?" he bid judiciously. "Loser admits they're an idiot."
"Fine, but on recording," I spiced up further.
I had never seen him as interested and excited as he suddenly did. "Well, then, this phone is about to become my most prized possession," he announced, holding his mobile up and actually kissing its side.
But it was literally about a minute later that same face was so frigid, I couldn't help the consecutive waves of laughter that I burst in as I played the video over and over on the way home. "I, Killua Zoldyck, admit to being an utter and complete idiot," Killua's voice repeated continuously as I kept pressing replay.
"I told you to keep your face straight," I commented, watching attentively. "And the point was not to look a vexed shit, it was more about admitting that you are."
"Are you done?" he fumed as killed the engine in front of my house, not making eye-contact.
"I don't know, am I?" I stretched in the most frustrating tone I could manage.
"Okay, what do you want in exchange for that?" he attempted to strike a deal.
I squinted at him as I threw the door open. "You know what I want."
His face went blank. "Be reasonable."
I stared at him and tried to shake away the lurking heaviness in my heart as I put my phone in the pocket of my jeans. "Then, I think this could work."
"What?"
I cleared my throat and passed a hand through my hair. "Has it occurred to you that we could try to be...friends?" I propounded gradually.
His features acquired the most dumbfounded expression I ever thought anyone could be capable of. "Friends?" he repeated with a disbelieving laugh. "You and I?" he gestured between the two of us.
I shrugged. "Yeah?"
"Friends," he tried again, like he was trying to taste the word on his tongue. After a moment's thought he concretely dismissed the idea. "You know Claire, it's one thing to believe in miracles and completely another to be deluded."
I sighed and got out. "You're standing at my door, blocking the way."
His blue irises contracted in confusion.
"I'm open to new chances, Killua, I wanna try that. But I have to let people in now, and this is the only way I'm allowing you to be in my life; I don't wanna do complicated anymore. If you don't think this can work," I halted, mustering the courage to say the next words. "You can go out through the same way you came in. I won't stop you this time."
Turning around and walking the opposite way, I couldn't help but have the image of his last haunting guise stuck in my head. For as much as I opposed it, I think I had just seen Killua in fear.
Secrets are whispers, soul-stirring pleads
that heave back the heart and strike til it bleeds.