Part 3
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Chapter 4

///

Hisoka does not know what to do.

At the moment, you are his only toy. He has already dealt with Gon; when he was finished with that arc of his life, he needed a fierce embodiment of power and love to obsess over. You just so happened to fit his requirements, so he chose you to be his toy.

Hisoka tried to ruin your relationship with Illumi, but, as it turned out, the Zoldyck went and ruined it himself. Now what can he do? Fight you, perhaps? No, not enough of a challenge. Hisoka knows he would win. Outright kill you? No, too boring. It would be easy, and without reward.

Hisoka sighs. He does not understand Illumi's logic. Why push away the love and desire of a valuable person? Why ignore them when they are ready to be completely vulnerable? Illumi could manipulate you to pieces, use your love to his advantage. But instead, he pushes you away, because he is scared that he will not be able to manipulate you because his own humanity will spill out like an oil leak over an ocean.

The only reason Hisoka knows this is because he did not leave after seeing you in the Zoldyck garden yesterday night. He stuck around, and he eavesdropped from the slit open edge of a window belonging to a fire-lit room. He heard every word exchanged within those walls.

"He is becoming human," Hisoka mumbles.

Beside him sits Machi. One of her elbows rests on the table, and her chin is in her palm. They met up at an outdoor table near the edge of Yorknew City to talk about Hisoka's troubles; for whatever reason, Machi obliged to the meeting, even though she has an agenda to take care of. Perhaps she has some sort of connection with Hisoka that makes her push other obligations aside for him. "Does that bother you?" she asks.

There is a card in Hisoka's hand. He stares at it. The card is just like you: a toy, fragile enough to be ruined by something as weak as water, but strong enough so that it is not easily torn. He smirks a bit, to himself, and answers, "A little bit, yes." His tone is that of a sulking child's. "I was hoping Illumi would join this little game of mine, but he can only think of himself."

"You said Illumi is in love with (Y/N)?"

"Yes, and I believe that is the only logical answer."

Machi sighs silently. Hisoka spares her a glance, his eyes thin, conniving.

"Well. What are you going to do?" she asks.

Hisoka shrugs one shoulder. "I may kill (Y/N). Sure, it will ruin my give-and-take relationship with Ill, but he will definitely fight me if I do such a thing. A fight with him would be rewarding, don't you agree?"

"No. Illumi would win."

Hisoka makes a face, as if he is offended.

"Illumi would be angry. That might force him to make sloppy mistakes, but he's still an assassin," Machi goes on to explain, deep in thought. "He has been trained to withhold emotion for the sake of success. Plus, if he knows you will win the fight, he will not fight you in the first place, no matter what you've done to (Y/N). He'll try something dirty, something destined for success—like killing Gon."

Not knowing what to say or how to react, Hisoka stares at the scenery, slightly frustrated. He taps the edge of his card against the table three times. Machi is right. So what is he to do now?

A few moments of silent thought settle in the air, letting Hisoka's mind twirl viciously, piecing together bits of malice until they make one big, beautifully horrific picture. He smirks again, happy with the painting he has created in his mind. It is perfect.

Machi must notice his change in countenance because she says, "You made a plan."

Hisoka raises a brow at her. "Oh Machi... always knowing what's going on in my head, with your hunches and such." He chuckles, displaying the mighty emotion that he feels now as opposed to earlier.

"So, what are you going to do?"

Hisoka stands up. "I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough." With that, he pockets the card and walks away from the table, towards the busier part of town. Machi watches him go; he can feel her sly eyes burning into the back of his head.

Machi blinks, then she realizes.

She was so focused on you being the key variable of Hisoka's plans that she did not stop to think about any other variables, and how they might affect you in the way that Hisoka wants them to. She thought he might kill you, fight you, damage you... but she didn't replace 'you' with any other names.

But the key variable is Illumi, of course.

///

A day passes.

And it is filled with absolutely nothing. Illumi is gone for a whole 24 hours, and you are left to sit in his room, wander around the house or read one of the millions of books the Zoldycks own. At every meal time, 9A.M., 12P.M., and 6P.M., a maid brings food to Illumi's bedroom for you to eat. She also brings a chocolate lava cake at 8P.M. for desert. You had been out walking around the estate for the majority of the evening, so you come back to Illumi's room to find dinner and desert sitting untouched at the foot of the door.

The quality is magnificent. Not just of the food—which tastes like heaven in your mouth—but of the house itself, and its massive stretch of yard beyond. It is full of medieval decorations, laced with gold and purple; gilded portraits line the blood soaked walls and little purple flowers dot the grayish grass outside. The Zoldyck aesthetic, you suppose.

That night, after eating dinner and taking a hot shower, you decide to go for one last walk around the house, just to see if you can find Illumi anywhere.

You do not know what is going to happen next, regarding Illumi. Is he going to let you out of his house? Maybe you can just leave whenever you want to. (If that is true, you would not leave anyway, for you do not want to leave until you have everything sorted out with him. Your earlier conversation left of on an... iffy note.) Or maybe you have to stay locked up in this mansion because, if you leave, the Troupe will find out that you are alive.

On another train of thought, you wonder where exactly your dynamic with Illumi sits. Are you friends? Less than that? Just mentor and student again, like the two of you were for so long?

Perhaps the two of you are on a middle ground, both unsure of what is to come next. The thoughts stress you out, like trying so solve an unsolvable puzzle. Deciphering Illumi's motives is worse than anything, because it is impossible for him to be read.

You think about all of this, wandering through long halls. Some of them you recognize from yesterday night, when you were looking for the parlor. It was two in the morning, you realize, when you met Kalluto and Illumi's mom. Why were they awake at such an early hour? Kalluto had been drinking tea, for heaven's sake! At two in the morning!

"Such weirdos," you mumble, and again, you wonder where in the hell Illumi went off to.

"Us? Weirdos? How so?"

You jump at the voice, gasping so harshly that your lungs begin to ache right as your nerves settle. Beside you, walking with his hands in his pockets, is Killua.

"Jesus—when did you get there? Have you been following me?"

"Maybe." Killua shrugs a shoulder, leans against the wall. "I wanted to talk to you."

By now, your shock of his presence has faded, but, standing under his icy glare, your nerves are still on edge. He caught you talking to yourself and somehow knew you were talking about his family. He carries a bit of softness, a curious desire to reach into your personal thoughts and grasp what he can. At the same time, he holds back a ferocity—one careless step, and it will be unleashed.

"About what?" you ask.

"Illumi, of course."