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It was Thursday afternoon and Illumi was sitting on his front porch staring at a botched piece of fabric and thread.
Hisoka, occupied with his usual afternoon nap, had left Illumi to his own devices. So, Illumi had decided that now would be the perfect time for him to work on his new hobby, embroidery.
He had long since given up on working with Hisoka around, as his husband would much rather laugh at Illumi’s failed attempts than offer encouragement.
He was attempting to de-thread his latest, god awful, attempt at needlework, when he noticed a little old lady walking up the path to his house.
In the 2 months that he and his new husband had lived on their farm they had not had any visitors, apart from those present at the cow debacle, so Illumi was quite surprised at the old woman’s approach.
But, as he didn’t sense any negative intent from her, he decided to let her live as she made her way toward his house.
“Good afternoon young man,” she called from the path.
Illumi responded with a little wave; which seemed to please the woman.
She hopped onto the porch, where Illumi sat behind a low table with another chair to his right, and plopped a large picnic basket down into the middle of the table.
“Pardon the late introduction.” The lady droned, the hint of a country drawl in her voice, “I have a bad hip and I’ve been stuck in my bed for quite some time."
She frowned at this, clearly having not enjoyed her forced bedrest. "I told my no-good granddaughter to come and say hi for me, but she clearly hasn’t done that."
She looked over at Illumi, and he nodded confirming her suspicion.
Shrugging she continued. "Well, I’m here now and I even brought you a housewarming gift.”
She gestured at the basket and held out her hand to Illumi, “The name is Amy Gilbert, by the way. It’s mighty fine to meet you.”
Illumi, deciding that he did not dislike this strange woman, cordially shook her hand before responding, “It is a pleasure to meet you too, Madam Gilbert. I am Illumi Zoldyck.”
“Madam! Do I look like a Madam to you? People in this here town call me Grandma Amy, and I would be much obliged if you did so as well.”
Illumi, who had always been one to call others formally by their proper titles, promptly decided that no, he would not do that. But, he nodded agreeably at her, intrigued by his strange new neighbor.
Grandma Amy, seemingly quite the talker, continued her tirade. “It’s been quite a while since anyone’s lived in this house.” She looked around. “I think before you guys, it was owned by some rich guy who used it for tax breaks.
"He paid my granddaughter to take care of the animals, but she never really cared that much about them. It’s nice to see young people that care about their animals.” She clapped her hands together excitedly, “Oh, and I love what you did with the place, with the orange trees and all.”
There was only one orange tree in the front yard where Grandma Amy and Illumi looked from the porch. It was short and covered in tiny white flowers. The rest of the orchard was arranged in two long rows behind the farmhouse.
“They look so nice flowering like that. In a few months you are going to have some beautiful oranges. How’d you come about getting the farm anyway?”
Illumi squinted, it had been Hisoka who had acquired the farm, and he had never bothered asking how.
“It was my husband who bought the farm,” he answered, gesturing towards the house. “He is taking a nap right now, but I can wake him up, if you want to meet him?” Illumi paused, aware of his words.
He and Hisoka had met several townspeople, but to his knowledge they had never told or indicated to anyone they were married. As such, Illumi did not know what the people in this town thought about nontraditional couples.
If Grandma Amy cared either way, she didn’t show it. “Oh, no I wouldn’t want to disturb him. Here, help yourself.” She lifted a small cloth from the top of the picnic basket, revealing a plate with a generous heap of chocolate chip cookies. “It is your housewarming gift, after all.” She giggled.
“You should also have one Madam Amy.” Illumi offered politely. Madam Amy being his compromise in title for the boisterous woman.
“I think that I will.” She grabbed a cookie and took a large bite. “And knock it off with the madam,” she grumbled through a mouthful of cookie.
Illumi, satisfied that they were not poisoned, ate some as well.
Though not concerned for himself, as he was immune to virtually all poisons, Illumi thought that Hisoka may want some later, and it would be a shame if he died so soon in their marriage, especially if it wasn’t Illumi who got to do the honor.
As they continued munching on cookies, Grandma Amy looked around and spied the mess of cloth and string that Illumi had in his lap.
“What’s that you are working on, young man?”
Embarrassed that his failed attempt had been spotted, Illumi replied sullenly. “I recently took up embroidery, but I seem to be struggling quite a lot with it.” He glared down at his work, mumbling, “I am usually very good with needles.”
“Oh, I can help with that,” Grandma Amy hollered, swallowing the rest of her cookie. She took the seat next to him and held out the cloth that had just been covering the cookies.
On it there were dozens of tiny embroidered flowers arranged in an intricate pattern. “I happen to be the number one embroidery champion of this entire county,” she exclaimed proudly. “You would be learning from a master.”
She snatched Illumi’s work up from his lap and examined it.
“I see what your problem is. You keep trying to tear out stitches. This is a problem I see with many people new to embroidery. You’re a beginner, it doesn’t have to look perfect.”
She unsuccessfully tried to undo some of the twists in the thread. “If a stitch is a little off- who cares! Just keep going. If you keep pulling them out, it’s just going to get all tangled, like it is now.”
Illumi hadn’t thought of that.
Perfectly was how he did everything.
It was already a slap in the face that he wasn’t perfect at embroidery in the first place. Now to create something that wasn’t perfect, and be happy about it?
Outrageous.
But then he looked at the exquisite embroidery that Grandma Amy had made, and then at his own botched creation.
He quickly turned and stared Grandma Amy dead in the eye, unblinking and serious. “Madam Amy, please teach me everything you know. I want to be your apprentice. I must get better.”
She squinted back at him.
“Are you willing to study every technique in the books?”
“Yes,” he did not hesitate.
“Are you willing to practice until your fingers bleed?”
Illumi doubted this would happen with the intense callouses he had built up mastering his nen ability, but he responded confidently nonetheless, “Yes.”
“Most importantly,” Grandma Amy had an imposing air as she spoke, “Are you willing to put your whole heart and soul into every piece that you create?”
This question made Illumi pause.
His whole heart and soul?
He had spent years cultivating his soul into the perfect nen-weapon, was he really going to waste it on embroidery?
And his whole heart?
He could count the number of people that he held a place in his heart on one hand.
Even his new husband hadn’t quite been able to carve out a significant portion, although he was loathed to admit that it was growing by the day.
Grandma Amy let out a huge guffaw of a laugh. “Calm down, young man! I can hear you thinking from here. I’m just messing with you, it’s not that big of a deal. Of course, I’ll teach you. Report to my house at 4 o’clock tomorrow afternoon and we’ll get started.”
With that, Grandma Amy rose from her chair and swept away back down the path, with as much hustle and bustle as she had arrived. Illumi stared after her mildly in shock, staying that way until Hisoka woke up a while later. He finally looked up when he heard his husband open the front door.
“What’s wrong with you?” Hisoka asked, stepping onto the porch.
Ignoring the question, Illumi responded, “The neighbor brought cookies; they are not poisoned.”
This very effectively distracted Hisoka and it left Illumi to think maybe, he had just made a friend.