Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Assassins did not have any need for friends. Zoldycks even less so. They, after all, had no practical use.
It had long been drilled into Illumi that family was and always would be the only one he could ever count on. Family would stab a knife in your back, but would not kill you. Family would poison your drinks, but provide for your physiological needs well beyond that. Family would not interfere with missions nor would they steal your kills. In a cliché, yet well-founded statement, family is forever.
Therefore, Illumi, unless put under influence of any irrational source (which was highly unlikely), would not actively seek for friendship. Alliances and acquaintances perhaps, but never friendship.
The word in itself left a bitter taste in his mouth. After all, friendship was what stole Killua away from him, his mother, his brothers two years ago. Friendship was what made Killua kidnap Alluka — Nanika — the monster, all to save some rugged little forest boy who knew nothing of consequences. Friendship was what tore Killua away from home and left the family in a state of confusion.
He loved Killua more than anything else in the world — and friendship stole him away.
In conclusion: Illumi did not make friends.
Encounter Number One
He was after someone. A man by the name of Sora who had eluded the Zoldycks for months, yet now, Illumi had a lead. He ran through the humid jungles of Azia, following the faint trace of Nen. It astounded him how someone who could not even perform basic zetsu on a chase could stay undercover for as long as he did. Vines, tree trunks, and bushes passed by in a blur by the edge of his vision — it would take mere seconds now to catch up and finish the job off. The difference between their speeds and technique was immense.
20 meters from target. He sighted the flash of pink from the coat the man foolishly wore everywhere he went contrasting the dark green of the jungle. He sped up.
10 meters from target. It would be simple to throw one of his pins into the man’s head from here. It would hit with horrifying accuracy into Sora’s skull and puncture his brain, rendering him lifeless.
5 meters from target. Illumi would not kill him — not yet. It was vital to know how a man of this calibre had gotten been this successful at hiding from him. How he had not been tracked down within the hour of the anonymous client’s deposit.
1 meter from target. Illumi pounced, a panther in chase of a gazelle. His legs landed a clean hit at the back of his prey’s knees, his hands thrust down on Sora’s wrists with the speed and efficiency of experience. In a blink of an eye, he mounted the other man, rendering him unable to move.
“My, my, Illu — I never expected you to be so forward.”
If Illumi had not been as apt at indifference as he was at breathing, perhaps he would have been shocked. Instead, his surprise made itself known by a small tense of the muscle, nearly unnoticeable by anyone except —
“Hisoka.”
Indeed, the golden eyes of none other than the killer clown himself stared up at him. Intelligent, cruel, calculating, and darkened with arousal. This was not the incompetent prey he had believed he was targetting.
“Explain.”
“I wanted to have a little fun, Illu. I wanted to see how long I could hide from you~”
Annoyance bit at him and he raised a pin to Hisoka’s neck, pressing it into his pale flesh just enough to draw blood. “And Sora?”
“Never existed in the first place!” The clown said with glee. He pressed his neck even further down the pin — any more and it would prove fatal, yet he made no show of pain nor discomfort. “It was amusingly simple to contact your business anonymously. One quick deposit and the deal was done, never mind whether it was fake or not.”
He would have to ask his father about that — he was not aware of how the clientelle system worked and whether or not his family conducted background checks. He had only gotten the text and had carried on with the motions of a supposedly simple assassination. In many ways, he was like a machine.
If machines could kill with lightning speed efficiency.
He understood now how ‘Sora’ had slipped away from his fingers so easily. He made sense of the few leads and hints at his location. It had taken him 12 days to even find a witness to a ‘pale man in a pink suit’. Sora did not exist — he was but a fictional character in one of Hisoka’s sick games.
There were very few people who would pay the Zoldyck fee for a fake assassination.
Of course, given the time and the correct information, he would have been able to track down Hisoka in, perhaps, a week, but he was not in control in this situation. He thought back to the brief traces of Nen that he realised ‘Sora’ had intentionally released as a means to help Illumi find him.
“Okay.” Illumi got off the clown, brushed the dust off his pants, and began dialling Silva. “Father, I have completed the Sora case. He is not dead. In fact, he did not exist. Yes. Yes. No, it was Hisoka. The clown. Yes. Okay. Goodbye.”
There would be no repurcussions as the fee was paid for in full anyway. Ah well.
Illumi’s eyes met golden ones. “You are fortunate I am not compelled to kill you. However, please refrain from pulling this kind of trick again. The next game may prove fatal.”
Hisoka laughed, dark and low. “Exactly how I like it, Illu~”
Ignoring the quip, Illumi vanished into the vastness of the jungle. As he began to board his airship home, however, he felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket.
[ HISOKA ] 14:12 *^_^v That was fun!
[ HISOKA ] 14:12 *-_-v But you didn’t bother asking why I made the effort.
That was true. Illumi, however, had no desire to know the reasons behind the trickery. Hisoka only made moves for one purpose and one alone: to satisfy himself. Never mind the rationality nor the logic behind it.
He had the means, the fighting ability, and the insanity to challenge him. Illumi would not waste his thoughts on the inner workings of the mad.
[ HISOKA ] 14:15 *^_^v Perhaps I just missed you.
Hm.
[ HISOKA ] 14:17 *^_^v Did you know I have powers of clairvoyance?
[ HISOKA ] 14:20 *-_-v Okay. See you soon!
Encounter Number Two
Unfortunately, it did not take long for Hisoka’s prediction to come to fruition. Illumi had received a message from Silva mere days later from a client (a real one this time, he made sure of it by meeting up with him in person) whose target was a floor master in Heaven’s Arena. The target resided in the 232nd floor and remained unchallenged since his claim there 3 months ago.
The simplest way (with the least repurcussions) to assassinate someone in such a place, Illumi concluded, would simply be to kill him in a match. It would be legal and therefore less work to clean up after. However, there was one particular troublesome associate he knew whose current affiliation was to Heaven’s Arena. A floor master with an unsatiable bloodlust and a keen sense of finding worthy opponents.
Reaching the 232nd floor would be a simple task.
Getting there without Hisoka noticing his presence would be significantly harder.
However, he had no choice. The clown would only prove to be detrimental to the mission at hand. After all, as much as they had worked together in the past, Hisoka had no problem being Illumi’s nuisance.
After the quick death of his opponent on the first floor, Illumi (disguised as Gittarackur) was instantly jumped to floor 200. It would be a waste of many rookie fighters, said the wise referee after his match, to send a wolf to wade across a pool of sheep. Already now, news of his brutal decapitation of the woman named Yui (?) was tittering about the arena. No doubt, Hisoka could already sense a shift in the tide.
He had to move quickly.
10 days passed, each with a successful win in a Nen fight, and Illumi was finally equipped and qualified to challenge a floor master. The fighters in the arena were disappointingly weak, leaving many a hole in their defenses and much to be desired in the development of their respective hatsu’s. They were disgustingly simple to dispose of — what a waste indeed.
He was also surprised (and slightly unnerved) that within the past days, there had been no disturbances or odd pink auras drifting about his general vicinity. Hisoka had already seen Illumi in this manner, as Gittarackur; the clown had even called him out based on his instinct alone, and yet it appeared that he had no idea that he was even here.
But that was wrong, Illumi knew. Of course Hisoka knew he was here. Perhaps he was just uninterested this time — and the assassin preferred to keep it that way. One more day and he would challenge the 232nd floor master, stab his heart with a well-aimed pin, and be off with this mission.
Good, Illumi thought. He was beginning to get sick of the arena’s tacky decor.
The match with his target went by quickly and Illumi suffered no serious injuries. He admitted, however, that the man, Jaycob, was talented. He was a transmuter who used electricity to hurt and paralyse his foes. While not as gifted as Killua (nobody else was as gifted as Killua), he did have a fierce persona that backed up the thunder for his lightning.
Illumi even allowed himself to be zapped once, if only because it reminded him of Killu. It did not hurt, but the heat and lightning white of Jaycob’s aura made him feel a refreshing splash of pain, of the personal kind if anything.
Eventually, however, a lack of Godspeed, strength, and strategy led to Jaycob’s unsurprising demise.
How unfortunate, Illumi thought as he stalked away from the roar of the crowd, down the dark hallway of the stadium. He had talent.
“He was weak,” a honeyed voice crooned from behind him. Ah, of course. Illumi knew he would not be able to escape unscathed. “You seem to get a little blinded when you see lightning, Illu~”
“Leave me, Hisoka.”
“Ah, but I have — I’ve waited so long for this,” Hisoka laughed and Illumi caught the nearly demonic glint in his eye as he turned to face him. “Fight me, Illumi.”
“No.” Illumi replied curtly, already texting Silva to inform him of the successful mission outcome.
“You’re no fun. Come, it would be quite a challenge.”
“I have no doubt it would not be simple, but, unlike you, I do not fight for fun,” he fixed his glance at the clown whose arms were rested in his pockets — a pose he had never seen Hisoka adopt, yet one that reminded him so much of — “You do that on purpose.”
Hisoka cackled, letting the unnerving twang of his voice echo on the concrete that surrounded them. “He is a weakness, Illu~ Make sure it doesn’t come back to bite you.”
His phone beeped, notifying him of Silva’s confirmation of the kill.
“I’ll let you go this time, but do know that I’ll be waiting~” Hisoka closed his eyes, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, hands caressing his own waist. The move was sensual, almost enticing, but Illumi felt nothing.
He always felt nothing.
“You act as though you are in charge here.”
Hisoka snapped open his eyes to reveal a startling electric blue. For a moment, Illumi felt himself stiffen, his hand already grasping his pins.
“Ah, but my dearest Illumi,” the clown cackled as one found its way into his shoulder and another on the wall behind him. Illumi had aimed for the eyes, but Hisoka was fast enough to dodge the crippling blow. “I am in charge here.”
Then Hisoka disappeared as quickly as he came, leaving a single blue rose on the floor where he had stood. Perhaps there was a reason Illumi despised magicians so much — he was not the type for theatrics.
[ HISOKA ] 09:21 *^_^v You’ll appreciate me one day, Illu~
[ HISOKA ] 09:21 *^_^v By the way…
Illumi informed the clerk that he would forfeit the title of floor master to the first challenger that came. The title would be meaningless with his mission over, and he cared little for the arena in itself. It was a drab, gloomy place that smelled of sweat and body odor. Human adrenaline was not the most enticing scent, after all.
With the arena fading in the distance behind him, he felt his phone buzz once more in his pocket.
[ HISOKA ] 09:30 *-_-v I may have some information regarding your dearest brother~
Killua.
A flash of lightning, the cold burn of electric blue — it entertained his mind for but a second before he remembered his father’s orders to not engage the search for the heir. He will return, Silva said, despite he and his mother’s will. You will not bring him back by force.
A second.
It poisoned his thoughts for only a second before he shrugged it off.
Without a lead, it would be next to impossible to find a Zoldyck that did not want to be found. Hisoka had the information he needed to track down his dearly missed brother, but he would sooner die than betray the will of his family. The will of his father.
That troublesome clown. He had almost given him hope.
Almost.
Interval
5 months had passed since the events of Heavens Arena, and Illumi had been preoccupying himself with assigned missions. There were no interesting cases as of late, most assassinations requiring basic skills. The closest thing to mortal danger would have been one of his targets last week, a Nen-user who was an enhancer. He could turn his flesh into solid metal and none of Illumi’s pins appeared to be able to sneak past the Nen-strengthened armor. His bodyguards had then attempted to trap Illumi in a cage fortified with both Nen and diamond — it was an intelligent move on their part given that he could not cut through with needle alone, however, he made quick work of escaping through expanding his aura and forcing the cage into a state of zetsu. His hands were trained to break through any precious metal or stone, after all, and he broke the diamond easily. Afterwards, he cracked the enhancer’s neck and left no witnesses.
It was a shabby job and he could have done much better, but it was completed regardless. If anything, it was more interesting than the point blank shots in the dark alleyways of the city against opponents who did not have the foresight to fight back.
Perhaps what he had said to Hisoka was erred. He did find a sense of amusement in fighting — given that his challengers were any good.
He was enjoying a cup of tea in the penthouse cafe of one of the more bourgeoise buldings in Yorknew city when his phone buzzed. The personal ding! of the phone informed him it was Silva, probably assigning him to another case. He flipped his phone open to see a simple nine word message.
If his heart knew how to feel glee, perhaps it would have then and there.
[ SILVA ] 07:30 It is time to bring the heir back home.
Encounter Number Three
“Yes, Illu? Miss me already?”
“Where is Killua?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Hisoka leaned forward on the marble tabletop of the airship bar. He looked well, yellow eyes bright yet deceiving. Illumi thought for a moment of a lake on Kukuroo mountain, one he had often frequented during the few breaks he had from his assassination training. In the summer, it would shine bright and transparent, exposing the family of bloodfish that lived there. The mountain’s natural predators would rarely hunt for seafood in the summer, therefore the lake’s revelation would not endanger them. In the fall, however, once the beasts would seek for winter’s sustenance, the lake would mist up and hide the treasures it carried inside, posing an extra challenge for the few that wished to hunt in its cloaked waters.
Hisoka’s eyes so well resembled the lake, Illumi thought — willing to reveal just as much as it was willing to conceal, only dependent on things as uncontrollable as nature or the time of day. The clown kept his secrets well.
“I would.”
In a more ideal situation, not involving Hisoka, perhaps he would have resorted to [death] threats, but he knew that the proposition of mortal peril would only further excite him. He was easier to deal with playful than, god forbid, aroused.
“Will you pay me?”
Hisoka did not need the money, so what could he possibly — “What do you want?”
“I’ll name my price once we’re finished.”
Only a fool would accept the offer, but Illumi knew it was likely to be the clown’s last price. He could attempt to find Killua alone, but that would be much more tedious than he would like, given that his brother was well versed in elusion and misdirection.
He was a Zoldyck after all.
“I will accept under set conditions.”
A cocked brow from the clown. “Oh?”
“You may not ask what I cannot give. Anything that poses a threat to me or my family will not be entertained.” Illumi paused, weighing the rest of his conditions. “And the mission ends once Killua is found and brought back home. I will not pay your price until he is returned.”
Hisoka’s low laugh sounded suspiciously pleased. “I expected nothing less from you, Illumi.” He pulled out a deck of cards, shifting them between his fingers similar to what the butler, Gotoh, did with his coins. “I accept your terms~”
Illumi did not need it in writing. Hisoka may have been a liar, a masochist, and a murderer, but he knew he would keep his word.
The alternative, after all, would be death.
“Now, where is Killua?”
The clown grinned, showing off a set of shining white teeth. “Greed Island.”