Part 2
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Chapter 3

///

And, just like that, you are brimming with guilt.

How could you have done that? You even initiated it; it was you who grabbed Hisoka by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a kiss. That was the start of it all, the explosion that set off an entire mine field.

But was it really so wrong for you to have sex with him? You and Illumi are not dating, anyway, so your guilt does not stem off an actual relationship, but purely from your emotions. You care about him, a lot, which is something you did not realize until he kissed you.

You scrub your skin with more vigor, as if it will rid your body of sin through your pores.

Hisoka's shampoo, which you used to wash your hair, smells like citrus and flowers, just like his fiery red locks. His body wash on your skin feels foreign—it's like someone else's body is clinging to yours. It feels so wrong, but so right—it makes you want to giggle and cry at the same time. Will anyone be able to tell that you smell like him?

You sigh and decide not to think about the boys anymore. You have a task coming up, after all. At midnight, a person named Jikoria Wai will be at the location saved on your phone. You have to kill him, then meet the person who asked you to do so tomorrow night so they can pay you. Normally, you ask for payment before the job is done, but your brain was so caught up on Hisoka leaning on your kitchen counter that you did not even think to tell the employer that.

You turn around to wet your hair more, keeping your hands under the water's stream to gather warmth. The thoughts of work fade away, and another intrusive question enters your mind to replace them:

Why did Hisoka sleep with you?

He is always a tease with everyone who catches his romantic interest. You know this from observation, and from Illumi telling you so. He hardly sleeps with people, and when he does, he often kills them after. When he is done with his toys, everyone is done with them.

Stop thinking about Hisoka. Focus on the upcoming job.

But you can't focus, no matter how hard you try. Something is nagging at your brain, begging for acknowledgement, but you can't tell what it is.

If Hisoka slept with you after hardly any a-for-thought, and he did not kill you after, what does that mean? Is he up to something?

As of now, Hisoka is in the kitchen making himself some dinner. You give your skin and hair one last rinse before turning off the shower. The air is clouded with warm, orange-scented steam, making your nostrils burn.

You yank the shower curtain away and use a clean white towel to dry yourself off. It is then that you realize you scrubbed a patch of skin on your arm so hard, it bled.

///

The night air is the perfect temperature, filling you with a sensation of being weightless. But, each step is made heavier by your iron-clad thoughts.

After bidding Hisoka farewell, you head towards 204 Fex Street in search of your victim. It is 30 minutes to midnight, giving you a half an hour to scope the scene.

The unknown contact sent you a picture of your target's face and profile ten minutes ago, but the photos were taken from far away, giving them a grainy filter. You can identify some key features, though. The target is a male, with curving wrinkles around the side of his mouth and tired bags sulking under drab brown eyes. A mat of grey-streaked hair sits atop his round head, and his body is built like a box.

The address given to you leads to an office. You would be a fool to walk straight inside; maybe the man knows he will be targetted tonight. You stick to the shadows, something that Illumi drilled into your mind during training.

You exhale. It is the last audible breath you will give before killing Jikoria Wai; from here on out, everything you do must be silent.

You walk into an alley way, two buildings down from the office. Using both brick walls on either side of you, you jump up in a zig-zag motion; your goal is to one of the building's roofs to get a look at the office from above. But before you can get to the top—

"You will not be carrying out this job."

Illumi's voice comes so suddenly that you think you imagined it. You lose footing on the brick wall, and your foot slides down, making a scraping sound. You gasp, too shocked to regain balance.

You soar towards the ground, but, before you hit the concrete, Illumi dives down and catches you mid-air. Holding you bridal style, he lands gracefully on both feet, softening your fall.

You had closed your eyes in fear. After a few breaths, you reopen them, and your heart practically stops at the sight of Illumi's face. You are far more frightened for your life now than you had been when you were falling.

Shadows have consumed Illumi's countenance. His eyes swirl with purple vortexes of an emotion so dark you cannot comprehend it.

"You smell like Hisoka," he says.

Your muscles tense in Illumi's grasp. "I—"

He drops you. With an "Oof," your back hits the dusty ground, but you remain relatively unharmed. Illumi saved you from the blunt of the fall by catching you, but he still dropped you, like a bag of garbage.

You make a move to stand up. Before you get to your feet, Illumi has your back against the wall. Your spine crashes so hard against the bricks that they crack.

Without the time to prepare yourself, the blow hurts more than it should. You only had the time to put ten percent of your defensive Nen into your back. A bit of brick falls out of the wall near your shoulder and crumbles to the ground.

"Ill—"

His hand slams against your face, driving your skull into the wall. This time, you had your Nen ready and use it to absorb the blunt force of the blow. Your nose snaps against the heel of his hand, and even more of the bricks crumble behind you.

But, despite all of the pain that is pulsing through your nose and spine, you are thankful that Illumi is here. He is okay.

When he pulls his hand away, his palm is wet. He looks at his hand. Blood and...

"You have no right to be crying right now," Illumi snaps.

But you are. Tears run down your face, curving around your throbbing (and probably broken) nose, dripping off the edges of your jaw. Bustling sounds fill the road nearby; people are evacuating the building behind you, having noticed the damage done to the wall.

The guilt from everything comes pouring out of your eyes. Of course, Illumi is jumping to conclusions. Just because you smell like Hisoka does not mean anything, but in reality, it does mean something. He jumped to the correct conclusion. You could lie and say you did not do anything with Hisoka, but you cannot.

And then, suddenly, it clicks.

This was Hisoka's plan the whole time.

That is why he invited you to dinner. He had full intention of taking you home and leaving you alive afterwords. That is also why Illumi is here right now; it is likely that Hisoka told Illumi where you would be, and that you would be carrying out a job that might be lethal. Not that it is lethal; you do not know how powerful Jikoria is, but Hisoka can be quite convincing.

"Stop crying. Right now." Illumi's tone is dry and cold. Heartless. "You look pathetic."

"A week of worrying," you whimper, nose running with blood, cheeks damp with tears. Your eyebrow twitches. "You didn't tell me where you were. You didn't tell me if you were okay. And now, what? You're going to stop me from making money? You're going to accuse me of smelling like Hisoka?"

You are spewing out all the words that you can, emotion and adrenaline laced in your voice. On the other hand, Illumi is practically glowing with deep, purple bloodlust. His eyes are wide with fury.

"Do you know what I was doing during that week, (Y/N)?"

You snivel, sucking blood up into your sinuses.

"Hisoka said you were relaxing at home," you say.

Illumi barks out a callous laugh. You wince. "Then, what do you mean, you were worrying? He said I was relaxing. That is not anything to worry about."

"He only said that to me earlier today. All the other days I had no idea!"

A few hours. A few hours of relief was all you got. Hisoka offered you a safe haven, a break from the worrying, and now here you are, back to the emotional torture. Illumi's expression feels like jagged claws gripping at your heart. Why does this hurt so much? Since when did you care about him to this extent? Since when did you love him?

Illumi's expression softens. "Is that why you smell like him? Because you were worried about me, so you went to go see him?"

You blink. Yes and no. Hisoka's words and his gentle touch were the only reassurances you had.

But you do not say that.

Illumi's head lowers. He swivels away, his hair flying before settling around his features, blocking his face from your view. "I will take that as a no."

"It's not that simple," you begin, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder. Illumi detects the gesture and flings a needle in your direction. It catches the fabric of your sleeve, simultaneously yanking your hand away from him and pinning you to the broken wall. His hair parts in front of his eyes, which look even darker than before. The contrast of his eyes against his skin makes his hateful glare all the more intense.

You snivel again, fresh tears spilling over your eyelids.

You have to remain strong. You have to talk to him. You have to explain yourself, no matter how much your voice wavers in the process. "Illumi," you say, voice as frail as a sick old woman's bones. "Were you just relaxing, or did Hisoka lie?"

Illumi blinks. "He lied. I was being tortured." He looks away again, silky black hair shielding his face for a second time.

For an instant, time stops, and the only occurrence is a single beat from your wrecked heart.

"T-tortured?"

Illumi says nothing.

"Illumi."

Nothing.

"Illu—"

"You slept with him!"

It is like he is just realizing it. He whirls around to glare at you again, dumbfounded.

"I was being tortured to get my love for you out of my heart," Illumi snarls, "and you can just sleep with someone else, as if I am nothing!"

Like glass under the wheel of a train carrying cinnamon, like a vase being thrown from a window into a bed of roses, your heart shatters.

"You were... what?" Each word comes out as a breath.

Illumi must see how hurt you are. The emotion is painted all over your face.

This is what I wanted, right? Illumi thinks. She does not care about me like I care about her. This will prevent future error. This is what I need.

He leans against the wall opposite from you, hair hanging down over his shoulders.

And both of you think: why does this hurt so much?

Sitting above the alley, tucked into the corner of a ventilator and a chimney, sits Hisoka. All the while, he listens to the conversation ensuing below, smirking as if it is the best thing he has ever heard.