A HunterXHunter Fanfic (Part XIV)

Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Part VII
Part VIII
Part IX
Part X
Part XI
Part XII
Part XIII

September 4th, YorkNew City, 11:22PM

“Does he really expect us to accept those conditions?” Phinks grunted loudly, looking at Chrollo as the leader of the Gennei Ryodan leaned in the doorway of their base, teetering on the threshold like an anxious vampire. Killua glanced from Phinks to Chrollo as the latter stared in their direction with the most neutral of expressions – as if he were sizing up a pair of marble statues being prepared for transport. “Boss...tell us where they are. We'll kill the kids, then we'll go deal with the chain-user. We've played into his hands far too long as it is.” Chrollo, appearing to make up his mind at once, stood up straight and walked toward Killua and Gon.
“The two of you will be coming with me,” he announced, looking at the two boys and speaking in the most impersonal of tones, as if relocating a houseplant. Killua realized Chrollo's eyes were rolling over his and Gon's forms without looking into their eyes at all, as if their faces were not recognizably human. He wasn't even really speaking to them, anyway.
“Like hell they will,” Phinks huffed, glaring at not Chrollo, but at Shal, Paku, and Kortopi, who had moved in closer.
“Don't interfere,” Shalnark said tensely, wondering why it was Chrollo's two biggest admirers who insisted on getting in the Boss' way.
“Interfere? Just who is interfering with our plans?” Feitan intoned, his usual malevolence intensified.
“Boss...you have to tell us where he is. I can't let them leave unless you do,” Phinks said, looking at Chrollo. Chrollo didn't respond, but closed his eyes and sighed. There was no time for this.
“You're insisting?” Paku asked, one eyebrow raised incredulously.
“I am,” Phinks replied. The atmosphere was suddenly charged, like a room full of thunderclouds waiting to unleash a storm.
“...Just go, Boss, we'll stop them,” Machi said reluctantly, placing herself between Phinks and the two boys nevertheless. She had been hoping Nijiiro had already bit it, but now it sounded like the Boss was under some conditional ability that compelled him to do this exchange at the risk of his own life. She'd protect him from the others before she'd let him die for some one like the Saisho.
“Stop us?” Feitan hissed, “You're trying to insult us?”
“This has to be part of the enemy's ability,” said Phinks, hurling the accusation as close to the Boss as he could without saying it directly. Now Machi was switching sides, too?
“I bet these four were defeated before we arrived,” Feitan said, hurling the accusation wherever he damn well pleased. “They're probably under his control.”
“What?!” Machi snapped. Their auras built until a fight seemed imminent. Not only a fight, but a brawl involving Feitan and Phinks, the strongest fighters the Ryodan had left, with Machi, Shalnark, Paku and Kortopi forming the opposing side.
“Paku, at least, wouldn't be following the chain-user's orders unless she was being manipulated. Either you are all traitors, or you're being manipulated...either way...” Phinks trailed off, cracking his knuckles loudly.
“Are you serious?!” Shalnark cried, not entirely sure he'd survive such a fight. He didn't see a way to mediate this one without Chrollo's input, but the chain-user had been clear about that. Was Chrollo being controlled? Possibly. But even if he were being controlled, he wasn't trying to kill anyone, or drag more members of the Ryodan over to the chain-user's trap. If he weren't, and the others tried to interfere before the Boss' objective was complete, they'd be killing both the Saisho and the Boss for nothing, without even discovering the chain-user's location. As a Manipulator, Shalnark knew that a Nen power that could infect and control other Nen users without the originator of the Nen curse present was a highly specialized type of curse, so specialized that it was very unlikely the same person could have any other abilities whatsoever, whereas the chain-user had at least two others. Even Machi had a change of heart, and it seemed genuine. And Shal couldn't quite fathom what the Ryodan would look like with neither the Boss nor the Saisho calling the shots... What Shal couldn't find, however, were the words to convey all of this to Phinks and Feitan before they started killing him and the others. Fortunately for Shalnark, however, some one else had.
“Is it really that hard to understand?!” Gon shouted angrily, apparently uncowed by the tense atmosphere. He broke loose of the steel cord that had been wrapped around his torso in a bid to keep him from escaping. “You really don't understand why your Boss wants to leave without a word? You don't understand why Machi is stopping you?! You honestly think they're being controlled?! They want to save your founder! Is it impossible for you to understand the desire to save people who are important to you?!” His brown eyes glared up at Phinks, whose mouth twitched with the indignity of being spoken down to by a kid who was easily a meter below him in height and two decades his junior.
“Oh, cripes,” Killua muttered, ripping his own bonds off and crouching next to Gon as his friend rushed headlong into another unwinnable fight with the Gennei Ryodan. Given the circumstances, he had a good chance of getting them out of the hideout without either of them dying, providing he intervened in time. He quieted his mind and waited for that explosive moment, while also doing his best to remember that they had little real choice but to hope for a successful exchange.
“Are you that desperate to be spared?” Feitan asked, in a bemused tone that never boded well for anyone.
“I'm not saying this for my own sake! Take those words back!” Gon barked in response.
“Shut up, kid! Don't assume you can whatever you want!” Phinks warned loudly, “If you move an inch, I'll stomp your sorry ass into the ground, you hear me?!”
“Then I'm not moving one inch!” retorted Gon, a little too fiercely for some one who was agreeing to follow Phinks' orders. He stuck his tongue out and reminded everyone present that he was, in fact, a very naive thirteen-year old boy.
“Tch!You're just a brat, what do you-” Phinks said dismissively, but stopped when he saw Chrollo's expression. He looked...bored. Phinks continued to stare as the leader of the Gennei Ryodan, who had yet to make eye contact with any of them, calmly checked his watch and frowned. 'Get the fuck on with it,' his body language seemed to say. Well, sort of. The Boss himself was too polite to curse.
“Kurapika isn't like you!” Gon resumed emphatically. “No matter how much he hates some one, he wouldn't lose control and kill them! And if he makes a promise, he'll definitely keep it! Having met him in person, your Boss has realized that. If you follow his conditions, he'll definitely return your founder!”
“That's enough, kid,” said Franklin, speaking for the first time. “You two...” he went on, looking at Phinks and Feitan, “just let them go.”
“Now you're siding with them, too, huh?” Phinks said sourly. Franklin sighed.
“Shal, what would our worst-case scenario be right now?” Franklin asked.
“Uuh, let's see...” Shal began, grateful that he'd been given a chance to reason aloud, “The Saisho is already dead, the Boss is being controlled, the kids escape, and the chain-user manages to kill half of us before we can fight back or leave YorkNew City.”
“Then you haven't thought this through,” Franklin's deep, steady voice rebutted. “The worst-case scenario is that all of us die, and the Spider perishes forever. Compared to that, your scenario would be pleasant. But if we keep bickering, that could well happen, and allowing the Spider to fall apart as a result is the greatest betrayal you could make against Saisho, or the Boss, for that matter. So let them do as they wish. If the chain-user double crosses us, we kill the kids, the chain-user, and the members being controlled, and start to rebuild the Spider with whatever's left. It's that simple. You are all being too reliant on the Boss and the Saisho, and it's unseemly.”
Chrollo, having finally heard the words he needed to hear, turned and began walking toward the exit. Killua and Gon stood slowly, backing away from Phinks and Feitan before catching up to Chrollo, following the Gennei Ryodan leader at a healthy distance. He was walking very fast. 'He must be under a time restriction,' thought Killua, putting two and two together as they half-jogged in a bid to keep pace against Chrollo's long strides. He quietly thanked whatever dark gods granted luck to assassins like him that no one had bothered to bring up Nijiiro's antics from what felt like an eternity ago, though it had only been half a day. 'If we do make it through this...we should really avoid these guys from now on,' he thought. Kurapika probably couldn't be convinced to stop, but Gon's ego had no discretion when picking fights. Killua's thoughts were interrupted when Chrollo slowed came to an unexpected halt under a street light a few meters ahead.
“Tell me something,” Chrollo said slowly, staring up at a large moth as it slammed its body against the street light's plastic housing repeatedly. He turned and looked at the two boys carefully as they waited for him to ask his question, or try to murder them, as both seemed equally likely. “...You must have realized by now...that your friend has bound me under his chains. Right now, I cannot use Nen at all. Why haven't the two of you tried to escape? Your friend would be have his chance to kill his hostage without worry. Are you not seeking to help him, even though you are his friends?” Gon and Killua looked at each other for a moment.
“It's because we're his friends, that we don't want him to kill,” said Killua. Gon nodded.
“So for his sake, we'd prefer to settle this with an exchange,” Gon added. Chrollo stared at them, seeming to mull it over for a minute or so. He looked around at the nearly empty street.
“Then prove it,” he said finally, and took off running, the two boys struggling to keep up with him.
After running nearly twenty-five minutes at breakneck speed, Gon and Killua found themselves at Ringon airfield, wandering through the ultralight docks, at exactly seventeen minutes to midnight. Chrollo stopped at dock thirteen, waiting for them to board. As the doors to their ship's airlock opened, a familiar but not entirely welcome voice called out from the shadows of the aircraft's aft.
“Yoo-hoo! Long time no see,” Hisoka called, smiling widely at Chrollo and the two hostages.
“H-hisoka! What are you doing here?!” Gon shouted. Running away seemed like a much better option, now that it was too late. Hisoka pursed his lips and pulled out his cell phone.
Up inside Kurapika's airship, Nijiiro took the call that came in on Kurapika's phone.
“Hiya,” said Hisoka's voice pleasantly.
“You're late, clown,” Nijiiro replied. Kurapika and his two companions were busy staring down at the tarmac, stunned at Hisoka's untimely presence, until Kurapika's eyes alighted on the cell phone in Nijiiro's hand. She was talking as if there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary going on around her. “Don't interfere with the exchange, it won't bring you the result you're after. Now get on the ship, before I change my mind, you flat-footed inbred.” Leorio cringed at the thought of calling Hisoka anything, but Nijiiro seemed oddly accustomed to verbally abusing the stuff of Leorio's nightmares.
“This is why you have no friends,” Hisoka retorted, strolling into the waiting airship. He hung up the phone and took a seat just inside the door of the cabin. Gon and Killua wandered in next, eyeing Hisoka suspiciously. They took adjacent seats at the opposite end of the cabin. Chrollo strode in last, and didn't bother taking a seat, but stood in doorway to the cabin, watching both Hisoka and the two boys in unamused silence. The pair of airships and their mostly unhappy occupants took off on an automated trajectory toward the Gordeau Desert, and landed on opposite ends a rocky plateau about eleven minutes after takeoff. Leorio watched as Nijiiro tossed Kurapika's phone back to him and smiled briefly as their craft touched down. Kurapika steeled himself and exited the ship first, followed by Senritsu.
“How did you...Kurapika's phone...” Leorio said, as he and Nijiiro crossed the gangway down onto the moonlit plateau.
“Before you finish that question, Stewardess, ask yourself this: Do I really want to ask the founder of the Gennei Ryodan how she managed to steal a phone?” Nijiiro responded with a sideward glance at Leorio, who blushed furiously. Nijiiro's humor had evaporated as soon as the ship touched terra firma, and Senritsu could hear the fear – not anxiety, not tension, but cold, dreadful fear – in her chaotic heart as she looked out at the ship containing Chrollo and his hostages.
“Don't get too cocky just because you're about to be released,” Kurapika said, somewhat relieved to be out in the cool night breeze, as his migraine began to threaten both his stomach and balance. If only the moon wasn't so damned bright, and the airship rotors so loud. He just had to keep it together for another five minutes or so. Once Gon and Killua were safe, he would allow himself to empty his guts in some cool, dark, blessed silence, but until then, by god, he'd hold himself upright.
“Ah, but who's going to release you, Kurapika?” Nijiiro said softly, as if she knew every sound that Kurapika heard felt like a glass bottle being broken across his head. She did, in fact.
“You're still the captive here, last I checked, even if I've allowed you to live for the sake of this exchange,” Kurapika said, his voice nearly cracking. His Scarlet Eyes were considerably duller than they had been when he'd tried to strangle Nijiiro to death earlier.
“That's a brave stance, Golden Boy. But remember this: having felt the Spider's bite, one must dance the tarantella until the dance is done. Be it today, tomorrow, or ten years along, I alone will decide when you are no longer of use to me,” Nijiiro said, her voice very low. It was a pretty good parting shot, as such quips went, but Nijiiro knew it wouldn't save her from facing her own music. She strode forward to rejoin Chrollo on the other side of the plateau. Looking at his disappointed face from just a few dozen meters away, her legs weren't as steady as she'd hoped they would be.
“Let the exchange begin!” Kurapika shouted, his own voice threatening to split his skull like an overripe watermelon. He narrowed his eyes, but the moonlight continued to pierce them as the silver designs on the back of Nijiiro's coat swam away through his blurry vision.
Nijiiro winked at Killua as they passed one another on their way to reunite with their respective parties.
“Are they being manipulated?” Kurapika asked Senritsu, as Gon and Killua approached.
“It's alright, they seem to be normal. Killua, at least,” Senritsu answered. Kurapika's blood pressure seemed awfully high. Gon high-fived Leorio's outstretched hand as soon as he could reach. Kurapika nodded at the two younger boys, but continued to watch Nijiiro carefully as did Senritsu.
“Um...why are you holding a grenade?” Killua asked, looking at Leorio, who remembered that he was indeed still clutching the grenade the Nijiiro had laid in his lap. He quickly lobbed it over the edge of the plateau, a good bit farther than necessary.
“It's a long story,” Leorio said, looking over to where Kurapika stood glaring at Nijiiro and Chrollo. The leader of the Gennei Ryodan and the founder of the Gennei Ryodan stood stock-still, facing one another silently in a wash of silver moonlight that caught only the whites of Chrollo's eyes without touching the rest of his shadowy figure, and turned Nijiiro's silver hair into an ever-shifting river of starlight.
“I...I don't believe this,” breathed Senritsu. Her dull brown eyes were widened considerably, adding to the sentiment of awe.
“What is it?” Gon asked, a little too loudly. Kurapika gritted his teeth, waiting for the Spiders to board their ship. He was in no shape to fight, and so the last thing he needed was for them to simply follow him back to the airfield and slaughter them all together.
“They're...having a conversation...” Senritsu said. The wind had died down, and she could hear their fluctuating heartbeats, as they seemed to have a telepathic discussion using neither Nen nor gestures of any kind. “...a difficult one, at that.” Chrollo unzipped the collar of Nijiiro's jacket, touching her throat as the latter's heartbeat rose with unbridled guilt, but also...pleasure? Chrollo reached into his coat, and Nijiiro winced, closing her eyes and turning from her lover, seemingly resolved to take a fatal blow from his hand. Instead of killing her, however, Chrollo pressed Nijiiro's missing glove into her hand, and tilting her surprised face toward his, kissed her like he'd never kissed her before. Nijiiro melted into his embrace, her knees nearly buckling under the sensation of his mouth pressed so adamantly against her own. He pulled away from her then, tracing the outline of her full lips with his thumb and drinking in the the agony that shone in her iridescent eyes. Senritsu alone could hear the screaming torture of Nijiiro's heart then, as Chrollo walked away from her to the edge of the precipice, facing the East and the coming dawn. It was the sound of one being disemboweled. A tear rolled down Senritsu's cheek, as she was not sure she'd ever heard such misery conveyed by a single heartbeat.
“I'm...returning to the ship,” Senritsu said finally. She didn't want to hear any more. Leorio coughed loudly.
“I...guess they are married, after all...” he muttered under his breath, blushing deeply. He hadn't seen anything terribly unusual about the display, save that it was a very usual expression between two very unusual people. Killua frowned.
“Then...why is she so afraid of him?” Killua said slowly, not completely aware that he'd voiced it aloud. Senritsu paused, halfway to the gangway back into the ship she'd arrived in.
“...Some things aren't worth pondering too carefully, Killua-kun,” she said, and scuttled into the belly of the airship. Killua continued to see Chrollo, framed in yellow lamplight as he crushed Nijiiro's proffered hand.
“C'mon, Gon,” he said. He and Gon scurried into the airship.
“Hey...Kurapika...” Leorio said softly, looking at his friend as they stood staring at the reunited Spiders. Hisoka was speaking to Chrollo gleefully, and...taking off his shirt for some reason. It was clearly time to go.
“...Yeah,” Kurapika said simply. He walked as steadfastly as he possibly could, his knees still shaking a little as he made his way back into the airship. He felt awful, his eyes and his stomach struggling to come to terms as to where the horizon really was. 'I...did it...' he thought, looking at Gon and Killua talking animatedly as he walked into the cabin, and he smiled in spite of himself. He could almost ignore the artificial lighting exploding across his vision like a flail capped in live firecrackers.
“Kurapika!” Gon cried out, making his way across the cabin to congratulate his friend.
“I'm sorry...” Kurapika said, breathing heavily, “for putting you in danger...”
“Nah...You used their chains on them, right?” Gon said brightly. “They won't be breaking out of those any time soon!” Kurapika's eyes widened, his mind remembering the events of the evening in a dizzy, jumbled rush. He saw Nijiiro shattering his chains, leering like a maniac as she did. Kurapika swayed, and then found himself on all fours on the floor of the airship. He vomited, the effort of it bringing white-hot stars into his eyes and the deafening roar of blood rushing into his ears. Coughing, he brought his sleeve to wipe his mouth. His head, his guts...no, everything, hurt.
“The tarantella, huh?” he whispered, as the vomit on the floor in front of him turned into an abstract, impressionist painting in a frame of creeping blackness. Leorio caught him as he collapsed.
“Kurapika?! Hey, hey, Kurapika!” Leorio shouted, as all four associates gathered around the unconscious Kurapika. Leorio held the back of his hand to Kurapika's forehead, confirming what he could already feel through the Kurta's linen undershirt. “He's burning up! You two! Get me some water from the fridge!” Leorio yelled loudly at Gon and Killua, who dashed away to the beverage stand immediately. He picked up Kurapika as gently as he could, and laid him out over a bench seat on the starboard side of the cabin.
“Wh-what's wrong with him?!” Killua said, more than a little jarred by the sudden collapse of his friend.
“I...I'm not sure,” Leorio said. “It could be adrenal exhaustion, but, it could also be something to do with his Nen powers. We'll have to keep a close eye on him.” Leorio laid a cold washcloth on Kurapika's forehead, watching his labored breathing and wishing desperately that there was something, anything else he could do. He sat down with Killua and Gon, explaining that they hadn't actually “won” at all, conveying the events that had unfolded during Nijiiro's capture as best he could. He did leave out his colorful new nickname, but more or less explained everything as it had happened in Gon and Killua's absence.
“But...The other Spiders are definitely going to come looking for Kurapika when their Saisho and their Boss both fail to return, right?” Killua asked, his face extremely concerned. Had he always been this fond of Kurapika?
“That's almost certain,” Leorio said sincerely. “I think it's best if we lay low for a bit. The problem is what we'll do if he doesn't recover. The Spiders definitely have access to the Hunter website, from the sound of it. If we take him to any of the national hospitals around here, he'll be discovered instantly.”
“What about the founder?” Gon said.
“What do you mean?” Leorio asked, surprised that Gon had kept up completely with the story so far.
“Well...it sounds like she wants his help with something, right? Wouldn't she be willing to keep him alive, at least for now?” Gon went on, tilting his head slightly as he worked out the details in his head. Nijiiro did carry magical lollipops, as far as he was concerned.
“That...may be true,” answered Leorio, inwardly shuddering at the prospect of actually seeking out assistance from the rainbow-eyed psychopath, “but just because she hints that she has a use for him, doesn't necessarily mean she'll keep him alive. And, to be honest, she doesn't strike me as the type to do something like that gratis. We might be worse off asking her for help than if we just bring him to a hospital, risks be damned. Whatever she has in store for Kurapika, it's a lot more unsavory than minds like ours could imagine, I'll guarantee you that much. We don't even know where she is right now, for that matter.”
“Um, gentlemen...? You might want to come see this,” Senritsu said, looking out of the airship window and speaking for the first time since she'd boarded the ship. On the airfield below, a white luxury sedan was turning doughnuts in the damp grass, spelling out a half-finished message in the muddy earth torn by the wheels.
“Stay...tuned...” Gon read aloud, watching the car make its final loop before darting off into the night, flecked with black mud. “That's a weird message.”
“That's an awfully good driver,” Killua said, sounding impressed.
“That's our fucking car!” Leorio howled, watching their ride disappear into YorkNew's night traffic helplessly. “Damn that thieving woman! I don't care how hot she is! I swear I'm going to kick her teeth in one of these days! I-” he stopped abruptly as Kurapika groaned in his sleep, shifting around under the airship's courtesy blanket with a pained expression. “Shit,” Leorio whispered, and walked gingerly over to where Kurapika lay, kneeling beside him to change the washcloth on his forehead.
“Geez,” Killua said, watching the drama unfold. “What a mess...”
“Still...She didn't seem like such a terrible person when she was with us, right?” Gon said uncertainly, looking over to Killua for supplication. Killua wasn't entirely ready to side with such a statement. Publicly, at least. Gon smiled a little, remembering the rather informative afternoon.“Even though she is a thief who managed to steal Killua's first k-” Gon broke off as Killua clamped a razor-clawed hand over his friend's face, silencing him instantly.
“Killua's first...what?” Leorio stage-whispered from across the cabin, rather confused.
“Hahaha, nothing, complete inside joke, you wouldn't understand, ahahaha,” Killua said, laughing nervously and a little too much as Gon tapped out against his arm, desperate for air. He retracted his claws and glared at Gon, who looked at the ceiling guiltily.
“There's a private cab company operating in YorkNew we can call,” Senritsu offered,. “As long as the client has a Hunter license, they're very discreet.”
“We'll use mine,” Leorio asserted. “I'm not connected to any mafia, and I haven't really used it for anything else until now, but to pay tuition at my cram school.”
“If we're laying low,” Killua said, continuing the train of thought, “we might be able to find another abandoned housing section north of YorkNew's old downtown district. I've been there a few times, for...work. It's pretty seedy, but there are always a lot of people from all kinds of society coming and going from there, so we should be able to hole up there for a while without anyone noticing.”
“Even the Spiders?” Gon said. It sounded like exactly the kind of place they would be.
“It's not like we have much of a choice, Gon,” Leorio said, looking at Kurapika with a worried expression. “Kurapika's got himself in pretty tough spot. And I have the feeling...this whole thing...is very, very far from over...”