Work Text:
Hisoka frowned down at his outfit, and the pair of keys dangling between his fingers. On one hand, the hand holding the keys, this was a fantastic opportunity. A well dressed couple had just handed him the keys to their car, a British racing green 1956 Chevrolet Corvette. On the other, they had mistaken him for a valet.
He had been proud of his outfit this morning, a three piece suit with a deep red vest, which could perhaps lead to someone believing he was a valet, but only if that person were very stupid or a little bit drunk.
Hisoka sighed and walked over to the car, dragging his fingers across the paint job. It was an awfully nice car.
Oh of course he was going to take it. You don’t become notorious for not stealing cars especially if they were just handed to you, and Hisoka was notorious, depending on who you asked.
He blew a kiss to the couple who had disappeared into the hotel, and slipped into the front seat.
The seats were real leather, stained a deep brown and stitched in strong black thread, the steering wheel made to match. It smelled like it had just been cleaned and polished with deep aromatic conditioners that made Hisoka go a little loose in the head.
He leaned over the center console and opened the glove box to reveal the registration, a roll of quarters, and a slip of vanilla paper with sloping gold writing printed into it detailing the specifics of a cocktail party.
Hisoka turned the paper over in his hands. It was thick card-stock, a nice sheet of paper, meaning whoever had printed it had money. Money enough to attract people with Chevrolet Corvettes, or almost. It didn't look like the rightful owners of this car were planning on attending.
Hisoka shrugged and put the car into gear. It wasn't like he had any other plans.
-
“Odette!” Hisoka exclaimed as the door was opened, only to be met by the disapproving glare of a decaying butler. “Oh,” Hisoka straightened his lapels, “I'm sorry. I got a little ahead of myself.”
The name Odette had been inscribed on the invitation, naming her the host, and Hisoka had thought it would lend credibility to his little fib if he had called her by name right off the bat.
“My name is Hisoka,” He held out his hand which was regarded with disdain, but shaken nonetheless, “I'm an old friend of the host.”
“You don't shake the hands of butlers,” Came a voice from inside the house. A round face popped out from behind the doorframe, and their small eyes widened for a moment like a camera snapping a photo, taking him in.
“Well you do if you want to make friends with them,” Hisoka gave the butler's hand one final shake and dropped it.
“Do you have an invitation?” The butler asked, folding his hands behind his back.
The individual inside the house shrugged and walked past, the door frame blocking him from Hisoka's pressing gaze.
“I do,” Hisoka beamed and produced the invitation he had pilfered. With some expert use of texture surprise, the names of the original guests had been covered up and replaced with his own.
“Well, welcome Mr. Morrow,” The butler opened the door fully and bowed as Hisoka brushed past him into the home of Odette Lavigne.
It was a high ceilinged mansion in the victorian style, and each new room Hisoka entered was a different color. Deep green like his new car, a reddish purple complimenting his vest, gilded in gold plating. It was decadent, and Hisoka walked around like owned the place.
“Excuse me,” A tentative voice called to him. He turned to see a thin woman in a floor length velvet slip approaching him.
“Odette?” Hisoka ventured.
The woman's eyes filled with panic for a moment before smiling. “Hello!” She said like she had known him her whole life, “It is a pleasure to see you.”
“Likewise,” Hisoka assured, “If you would have told me in college that you'd be living in a place like this...” He filled in the gaps in his story for her, “Well I would've absolutely believed you.”
Odette's laugh sounded like a chorus of church bells. “Thank you,” She smiled cordially, “If you'll just come this way. I'll let you introduce yourself to the others.” And herself, but she was too polite to admit that.
Hisoka was lead into a sitting room decorated in baby blue. “Hello,” He started before Odette could fumble over his name, “My name's Hisoka. I'm an old friend of Odette's from school.”
“Mhm,” Odette nodded, shooting a glance at the butler who confirmed with a nod that this man did indeed have an invitation, “This is my good friend Nima and her husband Hadeon. He and Claudia work together in politics, but they have agreed to put their differences aside for the time being. Right?”
“Right,” Claudia hummed. Her voice was low and rumbling like she had just had a cold.
“Anything for you,” Hadeon took a sip from his glass and glared at Claudia. His wife, Nima, rolled her eyes, earning another choral laugh from Odette.
“This is Hui. I met her recently at the country club,” Odette pointed to a small woman in a knee length square collar dress that melted into the blue of the furniture. “And thats Michael. He's a potential client of mine.”
The man who had chastised him for shaking hands with the help nodded to him, “Odette is a wonderful interior designer.”
“I can tell,” Hisoka cooed, gazing around at the room they were in.
“Oh!,” Odette threw her hands above her head and turned to gesture at the butler standing in the doorway, “And my butler Jean Wodsworth. I let the other staff have the day off, so we have the house all to ourselves. No one to gossip, so you two don't have to worry.” She assured the two politicians at the table, “Now, I have some things to discuss with Jean.” Odette hurried off, presumably to discuss who had invited her old school friend whom she could no longer remember.
Hisoka scanned the guests, sitting in front of him like a row of plump rich pastries, his eyes settling on Hui. He sat down on the chez next to her and pointed to the delicate watch dangling off her wrist, “That's a lovely piece of jewelry. Where did you get it?”
She started when he spoke like she didn't usually get much attention, probably shadowed by a wealthier counterpart, “Oh, it was a gift.”
“They must really love you,” Hisoka hummed as he thumbed the face of the watch, pointer finger sliding under to toy with the clasp.
“Hmm,” Hui dissolved into giddy laughter and pulled her hand back to look at it, ruining Hisoka's attempts at loosing the watch, “Yeah. My fiance got it for me. He likes to buy me things. He bought me this purse,” She pulled her bag into her lap and opened it, “And most of the things in here.”
Hisoka peered into it, eyes flashing as they fell onto a shiny piece of metal hidden under a layer of assorted knick knacks, everything from a delicately embroidered coin purse to old crumpled receipts. “What's that,” He stuck his finger into the pile, nudging around the loose items until the shining barrel of a beautifully adorned pistol appeared.
“He got that for me too. It's a pearl handle 22.” Hui pulled it out and waved it around a little, “Tells me to bring it every where 'just in case'” She pitched her voice low to mimic her fiance.
“May I see it?” Hisoka held out his hand and the gun was dropped into it. His eyes widened slightly as he clicked on the safety, and inspected the chamber filled with six shiny bullets. “You left the safety off,” He said casually, handing the gun back.
“The what?” Hui cocked her head as she stuffed the gun back into her purse.
“Ask your fiance when you get home,” Hisoka grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, his long fingers sliding up her wrist, going for the watch again.
The door to the sitting room creaked open, and Wodsworth appeared in the doorway, discouraging Hisoka from his prize. “Madam Nima. Odette requests your presence in the library,” Wodsworth announced with a bowed head.
Nima stood primly, dark hair falling picturesquely over her shoulder, “I guess it's time for us to gossip. If you'll excuse me.” She took her leave, throwing an absent wave to her husband.
Hadeon turned to Claudia, attempting to start a conversation, but she stood before he could push a word out, “I think it's time for me to explore this decadence of a house.”
“I'll come with!” Hadeon announced, oblivious to Claudia's displeasure.
“Fantastic,” She hummed regardless and left the room, Hadeon trailing behind her.
Hisoka smiled to Michael, legs crossed and sitting vacant in a blue floral armchair, “So Michael-”
“I'm going to go check to see what's for dinner,” Michael announced suddenly, shooting to his feet, “Hm? Did you say something?”
Hisoka's eye brow raised of its own accord, “I was going to ask you about your work.”
“Oh. Well, all in good time. I'm a bit of a paranoid. I like to see the soup boiling so to say,” Michael said and then added like an after thought, “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Hisoka beamed, and once they were alone together, turned back to Hui, “I bet it's boring anyway.”
“Everyone I meet at these parties is dreadfully boring,” She giggled back.
“Then, I hope I can be a respite,” Hisoka leaned back in his chair and disregarded the watch, “Tell me more about this fiance.”
Hisoka watched the bob in Hui's throat as she swallowed, “He works in insurance, and um.”
“What kind of insurance?” Hisoka butt in.
“Oh well,” Hui trailed off, “I don't really know. He says things like that are too above me, but he carts me along to his business meeting every once in a while anyways. I figure he's right. It's all so incomprehensible.”
“That's just because it's boring as hell,” Hisoka reasoned, “I'm plenty smart, and I couldn't tell you the first thing about insurance.”
Hui shrugged, her face going a pale shade of pink. She tucked a strand of her pitch black hair behind her ear, “So what do you do for a living?”
Hisoka groaned, “Something that requires me to know how to shoot a gun.”
Hui's voice got very quiet as she began to speak in hushed tones, “Really? It's a secret?” Hisoka nodded. She nodded back conspiratorially, “I understand. Some things are better left unsaid.” Hui brightened, “I don't know anyone that knows how to shoot a gun...and is also willing to teach me.”
“Gun ranges often times have someone who can sign you up for classes. It's how they make their money. I'd offer to teach you, but my schedule is...Well, it's hard to plan around. I'm a man of many whims, and I try to entertain all of them.”
Hui hummed back in affirmation, looking a little disappointed.
“If you'll excuse me,” Hisoka said, standing, “I have to use the bathroom, but I'll be right back.”
Hisoka left the blue room and entered the gold hallway once more and began the puzzling search for the washroom. It would've taken him ages, had Hadeon not barged out of it and almost knocked him over.
“I'm so sorry, sir,” Hadeon puffed out his chest and brushed the non-existent dirt of Hisoka's jacket, “I was just-” He cut himself off and pressed a hand to his mouth, a distinct gurgling sound coming from his stomach. “You need the bathroom?”
“I do,” Hisoka said, “Unless you still do?”
“No, no. Go ahead,” Hadeon assured and walked back down the hall to where Claudia was presumably waiting for him.
Hisoka shrugged it off and walked into the bathroom. It was a striking orange color, the color of summer sunsets all squeezed into the size of a tiny water closet. He inspected his reflection in the mirror, frowning at the way the orange tinted his skin, and ran his fingers through his hair. He'd probably leave soon. This wasn't nearly as exciting as he had hoped it would be.
As if some sort of God had heard his thoughts, a scream sounded from down the hall.
Maybe he could be influenced to stay a few moments longer.
Hisoka shot out the door and took a glance to either side. At the end of the hall, leading towards the kitchen, stood Michael knuckles white as he gripped the door frame. Hui was now holding onto Wodsworth as they stepped through the doorway to the baby blue sitting room. Nima and Odette stood at the entrance to the library. Nima's dress strap hung off her shoulder and her hair was noticeably unkempt, but Hisoka didn't have time to ponder why because at the end of the hall was Hadeon and further past him lay the unmistakeable figure of Claudia, splayed out on the floor.
“She's dead,” He announced.
The group one by one began taking tentative steps toward the dusky red piano room where Claudia lay prone. Beneath her spread a growing pool of blood, stemming from the gash in her throat. Hisoka had been around long enough, slit enough throats, to know that whoever had done this had done it professionally.
A hand grabbed onto his shoulder and Hisoka spun around, ready to maim, before he saw a wan looking Michael with his eyes screwed shut, “Is there blood?”
“Yes. Quite a bit,” Hisoka warned, putting his arm across Michael's shoulder.
A shiver wracked the poor man's body, and he turned to press himself closer to Hisoka, “How vulgar.” Hisoka didn't complain, pulling the man close to him and feeling big and strong in the process.
“Did you touch the body?” Hui said suddenly, stepping out to crouch in front of the dead woman. Her aura had changed from a nervous young lady into what Hisoka could only describe as a 1920's detective working during the prohibition.
“Of course I didn't touch the body!” Hadeon exclaimed, clutching his chest, “What are you accusing me of?”
“Nothing,” Hui said, sounding like she wanted to add 'yet' to the end of her sentence, “It's just the first rule when you find a dead body is not to disturb it lest you dislodge some evidence.”
The rest of the dinner party (save Claudia) stared at her skeptically.
“What? I was getting my bachelor's in criminal science before I got engaged,” Hui explained and went back to the body. A press of excited white hot nen coursed briefly through the room, but it came and went too quickly for Hisoka to pinpoint its origins. “Look,” Hui pointed to Claudia's hand, “She has a tan line on her middle finger. Does she typically wear a ring?”
“Yes,” Odette said, “She wears a ring with the face of a lion on it. It was her mother's. She goes nowhere without it.”
“Then the killer must have taken it.” Hui mused to herself, taking another once over of the body.
“Shouldn't we call the police?” Nima asked, still standing with her hand intertwined with Odette's.
“I live too far out,” Odette sighed, “That's why I typically have staff on the grounds with medical training, but I know a man. He lives 30 minutes away. He can help us.” With that, she went to the phone and called up her friend, “He's with the hunter organization, so he's very good.”
Hmm. Murder, intrigue, and a ticking clock with a hunter who very well might be versed in nen at the end. This was Hisoka's type of party.
“Perhaps we should wait in the sitting room, so poor Michael here doesn't faint.” Hisoka suggested, leading the party back into the blue room.
While the rest of them took seats, Hui stayed standing, pacing back and forth across the room. “Wow. A real life murder mystery I'm so lucky!” She paused and looked at the tired faces of the rest of the guests, “I mean. I'm so sorry for your loss, but we should really get some sleuthing done before your friend gets here, Odette, to make it easier for him.”
“I'm not opposed. What are your theories?” Hisoka asked, leaning forward to prop his hands on his knees.
“Well,” Hui blushed and took a deep breath, “Every murder has a motive, and while we're on the topic of loss, one of us has lost more tonight than the rest of us. An acquaintance, a friend, but most deeply, an opponent.” She turned to Hadeon and crossed her arms.
“Me? What is with the accusations being hurled at me tonight? I wished no ill will on Claudia. I was fully confident in my ability to beat her on honest terms,” Hadeon scoffed.
“Really? Because that's not what the news outlets were saying when the voter fraud scandal came out,” Hui wrinkled her nose at him.
“That was- I had nothing to do with that. What about you, Hui. It could've been you!”
“Hadeon, I'm not saying it was you for certain,” Hui explained, “We just need to go through all the suspects in the house. I'm simply starting with you because you were with her when she died, and it can't be me. I was with Hisoka the whole time, and once he left, Wodsworth came into the room. Now, where were you at the time of the murder?”
Hadeon grumbled something that sounded rude under his breath, but continued on regardless, “I was with Claudia, but not when she died. We were in the library, but I went to the bathroom, and when I came back BAM! Dead.”
“No offense, but that's a little flimsy,” Michael said, the color returning to his face.
“Hisoka saw me! He saw me come out of the bathroom. I have an alibi.” Hadeon pointed to Hisoka.
“I mean, I saw you come out, but who knows when you went in. You could've murdered her and then skipped off to the bathroom just to pop out and give yourself an alibi. There was plenty of time from when you left to when I saw you that you could've easily killed her.” Hisoka shrugged, “But yes, I did see you leave the bathroom right before you found her.”
“I can assure you, I was in the bathroom,” Hadeon pressed, but Michael was right. It was flimsy.
“That's an awfully long time to be in the bathroom,” Hui remarked, self-assured grin on her prim face.
“The canapes!” Nima stood suddenly and pointed to the plate of deviled eggs, “Tell them about the canapes, darling.”
“Sweetie. Sit down,” Hadeon's face went a bright shade of red, “This is not the time.”
“Then when is? You're being accused of murder. Put aside your goddamn pride,” Nima gestured again to the deviled eggs.
Hadeon shook his head and sighed, “I'm allergic to eggs, or...it's closer to an intolerance, but I can't resist. I ate 20!”
“He did,” Confirmed Wodsworth.
“I got sick, and right after I left the room with Claudia, I had to use the bathroom. I never went into the piano room. Not until I found her dead.” Hadeon sobbed into his hands, “I'm a pig.”
“Ew,” Michael breathed.
“He did look sick when he came out of the bathroom,” Hisoka nodded.
“Oh ok,” Hui shivered, “I guess we'll circle back around, but I believe you. I don't know if I'd lie about that. The next person would have to be Nima,” Nima gasped, despite being the clear next in the line of questioning, “Your husband taking a high level position? It'd be good for you.”
“Good for me?” Nima scoffed and plopped down in her seat, “Hardly.”
“Don't make me more of a fool than you already have,” Hadeon bit at her.
“What does he mean by that Nima?” Hisoka inquired.
“You think I like being in the public eye?” Nima ran her hands down the front of her dress, adjusting the slit across her leg, “It's hard being a politician's wife.”
“Then you frame your husband for murder!” Hui spits, the tone of her voice escaping her control for a moment.
“Whoa!” Odette stood and put her arm out in front of Nima, “No need to spit such vitriol. She has an alibi. We were together.”
“Mhm, and what were you doing? Murder!”
“She's right,” Michael grabbed Hui's elbow and pulled her into a chair, “You're losing control.”
“And what do you know? You were too pussy to look at a dead body,” Hui gasped then blinked a couple times at her own words, “I'm sorry. You're right. I'll take a moment.”
Michael winced then straightened his tie, “What were you doing, Odette?”
“Just-” Odette looked to Nima, “Just chatting.”
Michael nodded and stepped forward. Using his pinky finger to pull Nima's dress strap back onto her shoulder. “Right.”
“Oh my God!” Hisoka reached out and squeezed Hui's shoulder, “They were fucking.” All eyes turned to Hisoka. “Well they were,” Hisoka looked to Hadeon, who looked like he might have to abscond to the bathroom again, “Sorry.”
Nima rubbed at her brow, “I don't appreciate the vulgar language, but...yes. Hadeon knows, and he also knows that it's nobody's business but mine and Odette's. I didn't kill Claudia because I wanted my husband to succeed, and I certainly didn't kill her because I wanted him to fall from grace. All I want is to disappear into the background and get my parents off my back. You want to talk about loss? Well, Claudia's death is going to bring more focus to Hadeon than ever before, and I will be the one to suffer. I didn't kill Claudia. Neither did Odette.”
“That's all we needed,” Michael shrugged, “Who's next?”
“The rest of us have no clear motive,” Hui said, more composed now, “We didn't know her until tonight.” She reached for her wrist, presumably to fiddle with her watch, but lo and behold, “My watch! It's gone.”
“Could you have dropped it?” Hisoka asked, thinking back to the loosened clasp.
“No. I noticed it was loose and I made care to tighten the clasp, and I had it when we found Claudia. I remember because I thought it would be good to know the time when the body was found, but now it's gone.” She shot to her feet, “And the ring! Claudia's ring was missing, so whoever has it should be the killer.”
“Empty your pockets,” Odette demanded, “We'll go around and show everyone what's in our pockets to absolve ourselves. Wodsworth, how about you start. Set a good example.”
“What?” Wodsworth's expression changed, stoic expression slipping to be replaced with abject fear, “Madam, I-”
“Come on, Wodsworth. What do you have to hide?” Hui smiled, crossing her legs at the knee.
Wodsworth threw one forlorn look to his employer and pulled back the lapels of his jacket. Strung along pieces of string sewed into the fabric, hung assorted pieces of jewelry. A necklace, Hui's watch, even Hisoka's invitation to the party was slipped up beneath Wodsworth's jacket.
“Why the hell did you take my invite,” Hisoka reached over and took it. “The other stuff sure, but my invite?”
“I like stealing,” Wodsworth whispered, “It makes me feel alive.”
“Wodsworth!” Odette gasped, “For how long?”
“Since I was a boy,” Tears began to well up in Wodsworth's eyes. “I'm sorry. There's more in my room, but I promise I didn't kill Claudia. I don't have her ring.”
“It's true,” Hui reached out and snatched her watch back, “And as much as you stealing my watch makes me wildly uncomfortable, that's not the crime we're investigating. Everyone, empty your pockets.”
Hisoka's pockets were always empty. If he needed something, he would simply conceal it somewhere more discreet on his body which was why he found this line of questioning rather silly, but he played along until he got to his back right pants pocket. He paused, feeling the outline of an ornate ring through the fabric.
The occupants of the room turned toward him, waiting for him to reveal what was in his final pocket.
“Well come on,” Hadeon grumbled, “Show us.”
“But I didn't...” Hisoka pulled out a ring decorated like a the face of a lion. It's ruby eyes stared triumphant daggers at him as he inspected the face.
“Oh my God,” Hui breathed, delicate expression turning down, “You?”
“Hey. I don't know-” Hisoka began to defend himself, but in a crack of pain, his world fell into darkness.
-
Something was wrong.
Besides the splitting headache and wonky vision, something was fundamentally wrong in Hisoka's body.
“What happened?” He groaned, trying to reach up and rub at his head, but his arms were bound by what felt like a very high-quality tie.
“I knocked you out, so we could restrain you until the Man gets here.”
Hisoka's vision spasmed once, twice, before settling on the Michael's figure, “The Man?”
“Odette's friend. The hunter,” Nima sat next to Odette on the couch, clutching her arm like a lifeline. Her husband sat next to them, pressing himself dejectedly into the opposite corner of the sofa. Wodsworth was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was up in his room collecting his, or rather, other's belongings.
That sweet frown was still on Hui's face as she ran her fingers through the tufts of fluff adorning a squat blue footstool.
Hisoka hadn't seen the night going like this. The worst case scenario he had envisioned going in was getting caught with sticky fingers, maybe having to maim a few people and abscond, but getting his hands tied with a man's tie while he was accused of a murder he did not commit was not what he had imagined when he decided to attend a cocktail party.
He wanted desperately to kill everyone in the house and make his grand escape, but he couldn't. One, he didn't do it, and Hisoka wasn't the type to take credit for someone else's kill, and two, his nen was blocked. He could feel the intrusion sticking into the pressure point on his wrist that sealed it.
“You're Hisoka Morrow,” Michael spoke up.
“That's the name on the invite,” Hisoka bared his teeth in an angry attempt at a smile.
“Actually,” Michael held up the paper, now with the original names printed on it, “It's not.” With the loss of his nen, the texture surprise had lifted from the paper which meant that the door to his condo was now unlocked, and ohmygod this was causing Hisoka a world of problems. “You're the guy who's been killing those people, picking fights with innocents. I've heard your description on the radio. It's hard to believe with how sloppy you were, but this isn't your first rodeo. Is it?”
Hisoka paused.
“What description?”
“On the radio,” Odette nodded, “I've heard that too. A man with red hair, killing. It sounds familiar.” The rest of them save Hui nodded in agreement.
“I don't listen to the radio for news,” She explained when several apprehensive stares landed on her, “Only music.”
Hisoka frowned. Not at Hui. He didn't listen to the radio for anything other than music either. How had Michael figured out who he was because Hisoka was very sure he had not left any witnesses, and even if he had, he used texture surprise to change his key features? There was no way his description was getting spread around on the radio. The only people allowed to see his face were the ones he occasionally worked with. People apart of rather unfriendly organizations, so how, pray tell, had Michael, rich potential client of a high-class interior designer Michael, recognized him?
Hisoka glared at Michael who looked back at him, giving the faintest hint of a smile.
“It's not me,” Hisoka groaned again, leaning his head back against the wall, “Please let me go.”
“When Odette's Man gets here,” Michael kneeled down in front of him like he was scolding a small child, “He can confirm whether or not you're a criminal, and if you're not, you'll be let go.”
“How the hell are they going to confirm it? There's no proof,” He tugged at the restraints because unless this man's nen was specific in its deductions, Hisoka was definitely getting flagged as a criminal, “Except you saying you heard a description of me on the radio which I don't think you did.”
“What so we're all hallucinating?” Odette laughed.
“No.” Hisoka mocked, “What you are is susceptible to influence. He is playing you. What was your alibi Michael?”
Michael ignored the question which the group ignored in-turn, much to Hisoka's annoyance, “Evidence? If we need evidence of your criminal past, maybe we can check the car out there,” Michael slid his finger under the collar of his shirt, rubbing the fabric, “See if it's really yours. What is this? Polyester?” He stood up and walked over to Odette, putting his hand on her shoulder, “You look pale. You should lay down.”
Odette complied, draping a hand across her forehead like a proper lady, “Do I even know you?” She whispered so quietly, Hisoka almost didn't catch that it was directed at him.
“Uh,” The jig was up, and he hoped, by coming clean about some of it, he could be absolved of the crime he did not commit, “No. I hadn't heard of you before tonight.”
She clicked her tongue, “I thought it was suspicious Jordy hadn't called. Did you kill them too?”
“I didn't kill anyone,” Hisoka banged his head back against the wall a few times, “I'm not even the one with the gun.”
“Who has a gun?” Hadeon crossed his arms across his chest and frowned.
Hisoka gestured to Hui with the little mobility his head could offer. She tugged her purse to her chest and inspected the dark oak flooring.
“She has a gun,” Hisoka raised his voice, “You were her political rival,” He attempted to gesture at Hadeon, but the frantic movement of his neck was beginning to take a toll.
“I was absolved,” Hadeon scoffed.
“Your alibi was indigestion,” Hisoka scoffed at him, earning suppressed laughter from the rest of the group. “No one is thinking this through,” He groaned, “It's not me, and it's not Hadeon or his wife or the butler or Odette. Hui is innocent because I was her alibi, so why doesn't that discount me?”
“Because you got up,” Hui said haughtily.
“Where I saw Hadeon running to the bathroom,” Hisoka explained, “So if I was murdering then I wouldn't have seen him, and he would still be a suspect.”
“There was still time for you to get there. Claudia clearly died swiftly.” Nima spoke up, “Like a professional criminal did it.”
“According to Michael,” Hisoka turned his gaze to Michael and smiled, “I'm not a trained hitman. I'm a petty criminal 'picking fights with innocents'.”
“He'll be here soon. Let's all calm down,” Michael sighed, leaning against the arm rest of Odette's fainting couch.
“What's your alibi pretty boy?” Hisoka asked again.
Michael turned to look at himself in the ornate mirror hung on the wall, as if to double check if Hisoka was right. After a moment of assessment, he nodded and turned back.
“Nobody even knows you.” Hisoka went on.
“I know him,” Odette said incredulously.
“We're supposed to believe that?” Hisoka laughed, throwing his head back again, “You didn't even call my bluff. How much easier is it to get away with pretending to be an associate rather than a longtime friend?”
“I had met with Michael previously to go over his contract. I know him.”
The sound of the doorbell rang through the room, cutting off the conversation. The Man had arrived.
-
The Man, Logan Cross, was short and stout. He didn't look all that imposing, but Hisoka was tied up in a corner, so he didn't have much place to judge.
Almost immediately upon entering the house, Logan launched into his spiel. Explaining your nen to a bunch of non-users tended to be a bit of a dead end, but Hisoka only knew that from experience, so he did his best to nod along for sympathy's sake.
“Using the clues you all have so kindly divulged,” Logan drawled in a deep lilting voice, “I must come to my own conclusions before invoking my paranormal ability.” Hisoka smiled. He appreciated a good gimmick when he saw one. “Once invoked, it cannot be rescinded. If I choose the wrong person, my abilities will not activate, but if I use the evidence to make the right decision, the perp will fall to my mercy and lose any and all ability to resist arrest. I call this ability 'Clue'.”
“Like their nen? Because I've already been incapacitated.” Hisoka grumbled, tugging half-heartedly at his restraints.
“Well yes boy, but keep your mouth shut around the non-users would you?” Logan hissed back, “Now, let's get to it.”
“Wait,” Hisoka sighed. It would be a pain if he were to lose any and all ability to resist arrest, but more than that, if he left the party tonight, it was entirely possible that the asshole who had sealed his nen in the first place wouldn't get the chance to reverse it nor would they realize how stupid they were, and he couldn't have that. “Don't accuse me.”
“And why shouldn't I?”
“I've lost my nen, so why don't you just take me in now?” Hisoka reasoned, leaning back against the wall. “Maybe I'd fight back, but you have a firearm, and at the moment, I'm susceptible to gun fire.”
“I like to be certain.” Logan reasoned back, “For my peace of mind.”
“Who doesn't?” Hisoka's eyes darted to Michael, “Everyone here has been absolved. Hadeon was dealing with personal matters. Nima and Odette were preoccupied with each other. Hui and Wodsworth both have alibi's. Which leaves myself and Michael, and since I've already been incapacitated, accusing me wouldn't change anything except confirming what you think you already know. On the other hand, you accuse Michael. If nothing happens, you know it's me, but if something does, you'll know he did it.”
“I don't like the way you're talking to me,” Logan pressed his lips together and fought the urge to bear his teeth.
“I'm sure you don't, but if I'm telling the truth, and it wasn't me, Michael will kill you all. There is nothing to lose by accusing him except mindless pride, and I'm also sure you're not such a stuck up fool. Make the right choice,” Hisoka grinned at him, tongue running across his top layer of teeth.
Logan sighed, glancing between Michael and Hisoka.
“Fine.”
“What? Are you serious? Taking orders from a con, a murderer.” Michael scoffed, “Odette, I didn't know you associated with such low class people.”
“I believe Hisoka.” Hui stood up, lip curling at Michael, “I don't think he'd do something like this.”
“Darling,” Hisoka winced, “I've done plenty, but what I won't do is take credit for crimes I didn't commit.” Hui's shoulders sagged and she huffed a breath out her nose. Hisoka just shrugged. Pretty much every woman in his life so far had given him that expression at one point or another. He was used to it.
“I accuse Michael of committing the crime in the piano room with the switchblade.”
In a spark of light, Michael was thrown a couple paces back. He clutched at his chest and took in a ragged breath before wheezing out, “God this is going to hurt so bad.”
From his skin emerged thousands of delicate needles like the writhing of worms fleeing from a disturbed corpse. Hisoka could hear the snap and pop of bones as they slid in and out of place on Michael's face and body. His hair began to grow, his sockets began to widen. Before their eyes, Michael grew three inches and lost 5 years. The man standing in front of them now was not a run of the mill stock broker, but a freak of a man wearing a suit that came to just below his elbows.
He straightened and ran his fingers under his eyes, “That's a bitch to do without nen. Fuck.”
Hadeon grabbed a waist bucket and emptied out his 20 deviled eggs.
“Yeah, go on and hurl. Imagine breaking every bone in your body and then shoving them back together.” Michael, if that was his name, rolled his eyes, “Then you can throw up.”
“Who are you? What did you do with Michael,” Odette said shakily.
“What did I do with Michael? I fabricated his whole life and made him a compelling character you could project onto because I'm very good at what I do,” He said with a slim smile on his unsettling face.
Logan pulled out the gun from the holster at his hip and aimed it at him, “Put your hands up. You're under arrest.”
And this bizarre creature did just that, nose wrinkling as his body complied to the order against his will.
“As for who I am, my name is Illumi Zoldyck,” Illumi said, gnawing on his words like he was loathed to say them, “With the removal of my nen, the pin in your arm should've been dislodged.”
“What is he talking about?” Nima questioned.
But Hisoka had no such question. He could feel the power, which had been so rudely stripped away, thrum through his veins. With a gentle gyo infused tug of his arms, the tie snapped in half and his hands were free. Hui, the only one who's eyes were not stuck to Mr. Zoldyck, pursed her lips and turned her back to him.
Illumi continued, “If you help me out of here, I'll...oh I'm going to regret this...I'll owe you.”
A favor from a Zoldyck. Now that was just a hair better than leaving the man who took away your abilities to get a taste of his own medicine.
With the point of a finger and the snap of a wrist, Hisoka attached a string of bungee gum onto Logan's cheek and whipped his head clean off. His other hand slipped into Hui's purse and carefully plucked out the gun, digging it into the soft meat of her jaw. “Anyone moves and the girl gets it,” Oh this was turning out to be such fun. “Hui, Illumi, and I are all going to take a nice long walk outside where we don't expected to be interrupted. If all goes to plan,” He shoved the gun further into Hui's neck until she was forced to stare up at the ceiling, “Hui will come back in a matter of minutes with a new anecdote to tell and a plethora of new life experiences.” The party stayed stock-still, except Logan who lay twitching on the ground, body begging to run around like a dead chicken. “Fantastic.”
The introduction of the cool air hit Hisoka's body like a freight train as he stepped outside. The adrenaline mixing with the quickly cooling sweat on his arms made him fee like he was on fire.
“I thought we were friends,” Hui whispered, her gentle tone snapping him from his excitement.
“You must not have very many friends,” He whispered back. The Zoldyck was already at the car, peering around like he was trying to find a way in without having to wait for Hisoka.
Hui's face remained stoic, cheeks reddening from what had to be more than the cold.
“Hey kid,” Hisoka dropped the weapon, “The safety's on. I'm not stupid enough to shoot you. Not yet.” He handed it back to her, “Learn to shoot, cancel your country club membership, and take the hunter exam.”
“What?” Her eyebrow furrowed as she thumbed the handle.
“In fact, get a new gun. You can't handle something so small for your first time.”
“I don't understand. Am I not a hostage?”
“You're multi-faceted,” Hisoka started taking short steps back, worried that Illumi would puzzle out car-jacking before he got there, “Maybe go back to school. Although, I've never been a big believer. Don't get married to that horrible fiance. Actually, don't get married at all if you can help it.”
“Hisoka!” Illumi called back for him, frustrated.
“I am your friend, which is why I'm telling you this: get smart and strong, and once you do, I'm sure we'll get along famously.” Hisoka twisted on his heel and bounded over to the car.
Hui clicked off the safety and raised the gun experimentally up to the two men arguing over who was going to drive. Her finger itched with the need to tug, only gently, and lay the man out on the ground. She could feel it. In her hair, her eyes, crawling dangerously under her skin, there was the distinct feeling of unease. He was a thief, a liar, something so bad her spring-mind couldn't yet comprehend it.
Hui put the gun down. She wanted to know, it was innate to her being, and she couldn't kill the one man who'd told her how to get there. Not yet.
“Fine,” Hisoka tossed over the keys, imbued with the faintest hint of nen, so they would smack like a brick into Illumi's chest. “You drive.”
Illumi caught it like a ping pong ball, “Thank you.”
Hisoka had only ever seen a Zoldyck once in his life. He had been around 7 years old, eating rice and sticks of cantaloupe he'd pilfered from a food stand down the street. His legs had dangled from the top of a roof, swinging jovially as he watched a man take a rather unfortunate short cut down an alley way. It had been quick. In the blink of an eye, the man was prone, lying face down with nary a spot of blood around him like he had succumbed to a fit of narcolepsy. Another blink, and there had been a man next to him. He had had short white hair and grey eyes so pale Hisoka would've assumed he was blind had he not stared at him with such fervor. The mysterious man had swiped his hand out and snatched one of Hisoka's cantaloupe sticks before departing with the wind.
This new man was nothing like that. Long hair, dark eyes, and a sort of vacancy to his movements that gave off the impression that he was either not that bright or so immensely talented he didn't need to be.
“Are you really a Zoldyck?” Hisoka asked, peering at him skeptically.
“Yes.”
“I don't believe you.” Hisoka shrugged, leaning his head back against the car door.
Illumi let out what was likely his equivalent of an exasperated sigh, huffing through his nose, and released a plume of calamitous, putrid, and forceful nen.
It shot through Hisoka, igniting the oxygen in his blood. He jolted up and moaned, body contorting in on itself as he gripped his crotch.
Illumi gave him a concerned look, inching as far as he could to the opposite side of his seat.
“Sorry,” Hisoka chuckled, smoothing out his shirt and sitting back down, “Could I get a photo?”
“No.”
“But you owe me.”
“You want a photo?” Illumi asked, his right eyebrow raising slightly.
“Later,” Hisoka waved him off, “So why were you there tonight? I hadn't heard of Claudia before, and even though I don't pay attention to politics, I have to imagine Zoldycks only take jobs resulting in the deaths of...better known individuals. Why are you playing around with local politics?”
“Claudia works in global trade.” Illumi countered, rolling through a stop sign, “And besides, I'm hired to deal with a plethora of individuals. Including those working in 'local government' as you so crudely put it.” Hisoka stayed silent, letting the silence simmer, “But...No I wasn't hired to kill Claudia.”
“Personal vendetta?” Hisoka posited.
“Not a vendetta.” Illumi didn't elaborate for a while, drifting down the empty streets at an alarming pace. It took a moment before he spoke again, “It's my birthday.”
“Oh! Happy birthday,” Hisoka clapped his hands in delight. He was very good with birthdays, “I don't see what that has to do with it, but it's an occasion none the less.”
“What do you mean nothing to do with this?” Illumi's lips turned down in a delicate frown, “This was my birthday party.”
“What?”
“I wanted a murder mystery party, and I don't have any friends, so I threw one myself. It was filled with deceit, cheating wives, waring politicians, sexual deviants, thieves, until you showed up. Although, I think it turned out for the better.” Illumi explained.
“...You're a scorpio?”
“Am I? I don't follow that stuff.” Illumi rolled down the window, letting the wind whip his hair across his face in a way that was hauntingly beautiful and immensely concerning considering how he'd been driving when he could see the whole road. “What do you want in return for helping me?”
“I prefer the term saving.”
“I don't.”
“Agree to disagree,” This sentiment seemed to displease Illumi, but he kept quiet. “I have to take the hunter exam,” Hisoka began, “Or rather, I want to, but I have focus problems. I took it last year and was distracted by one of the examiners. He did something not to my liking, and I killed him, resulting in my disqualification.” This was technically true. The examiner had said something rude, and Hisoka had killed him, but he did it on purpose.
You see, Hisoka was surprisingly trusting despite growing up around ruffians and thugs. So much so, that he genuinely thought he had an orange intolerance for the two months before he got an allergy test. He was not allergic, just an idiot who took candy from strangers.
“I'd like you to supervise me, make sure I can get through the whole thing distraction free.”
“That seems easy,” Illumi said, voice laced with distrust.
Hisoka shrugged his shoulders, the picture of innocence, “I figure if I spend enough time with you, I can get you to do anything I want.”
Illumi rolled his eyes.
This idiot had the nerve to suggest that he, eldest son of the Zoldyck family, would bend to his flimsy will after a week of charming? Fat chance. Illumi would guide Hisoka through the hunter exam, and by the end of it, he would feel no differently than he did now.
He thought this fervently, ignoring the way his eyes were drawn to the color blooming across Hisoka's person, the curve of his smile, and resulting laughter when Illumi turned too sharply. Hisoka disgusted him really. He was the exact opposite of what he'd been raised to believe was proper and good. His parents would hate Hisoka.
...
Uh oh.
