To be Shalnark, one simply had to shut down his or her emotional responses for about five minutes to take a step back and observe the situation from a neutral point of view. Doing this allowed for an individual to grasp the true picture and stay calm and rational in a stressful environment.

So that's exactly what Rein did.

When Gon said the Phantom Troupe was dead, she panicked for a split second before she took a deep breath and tried to enter into the mindset of Shalnark.

This was most likely a trick. The Phantom Troupe had gone up against groups far more skilled and great in number. There was no way they could lose to the mafia, of all people. But then why did Gon...? Though she was sure Shalnark could have come up with thousands of possibilities, Rein could only think they had left bodies of some sort. Kortopi could copy anything but he couldn't transfer life into something else. So he'd made a copy of some of the Spider's bodies as fakes. That had to be it.

The others were repeating things such as "I can't believe the Phantom Troupe is dead!" "Is it true?" "How did Kurapika know?" and so on, as if they were unable to process, unable to move forward in time.

Rein was planning on saying something to break the pattern, but Gon beat her to it. He turned to her. "This is great, isn't it? They can't bother you anymore!"

Rein raised an eyebrow. "What?" she echoed.

"Well, now that the Troupe is gone, they won't be able to keep bothering you anymore. You can live your life! Find a goal, you know, normal things." Gon smiled straight at her, and the image of Uvogin flashed in her thoughts. "Maybe you could become a Hunter, like us."

Rein allowed her eyes to prickle. "A Hunter," she repeated, a slight jump of laughter creeping into her tone. "That's not a bad idea."

Killua sighed. "Why are you crying again?"

She bought a few seconds by reaching for a tissue to quickly rehearse her answer in her head. Brushing away mere droplets, she met his eyes for a brief moment. An icy ocean. "I'm just... relieved, I guess. Really relieved. Like Gon said, they won't be able to bother me anymore."

Killua resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her response. How could she say that like it was the truth? She was good at lying, but he could still tell what she'd said wasn't the entire story. He also couldn't detect what was wrong with her lie. Was it the lie itself that had a hiccup in it that caught his attention? Or maybe her acting was off? But if he observed carefully, he was unable to find anything that supported his theory. How could he tell she was lying? He didn't know. He didn't know, and that realization sent a prickly shiver up his spine and to the tips of his hair. Why could he not tell?

This confused him, and Killua didn't like it one bit.

Zepile started to collect the cigarettes and remaining cups. A trickle of ash trailed through the air before drifting and fading into the hairs of the carpet. "We should all probably head to sleep. It's already 2:00 am. Me and Leorio are gonna hit the auctions in the morning, but what are you guys going to do? Do you want to come with?"

"Wish we could, but—"

Gon cut in with a resolve in his eyes, clearly unaware he'd just interrupted his friend. "I'm going to try to get in contact with Kurapika. If we can't, we can all meet up later after you're done and search fo-"

Killua's hand slapped over Gon's mouth, muffling his startled cries. "And I'm going to check what really happened to the Phantom Troupe, try to get as much of the real story as possible." As Gon continued to struggle, Killua snatched a pillow off the bed and proceeded to muffle him with that. He turned to Rein, amusement still dancing in his eyes. "What are you going to do?"

Rein blew a raspberry, not even having to think twice about the action. She'd barely registered the fact she had done it until she felt the buzzing of her lips. Perhaps it truly was becoming a habit. Leaning back of her hands, she pretended to ponder. "I don't know. Maybe I'll decide what to do in my future."

Gon succeeded in kicking Killua away. As he gasped for a single breath, he scrambled into a standing position so he would be less vulnerable to attacks. "Be a Hunter!"

She paused. Grin spreading wider across her face, Rein grabbed her own pillow and jumped toward Gon, trying to muffle him as Killua had. "Maybe! Don't force me down a path." Victorious, she pinned him down with her knee resting atop the crook of his elbow as he playfully pleaded for mercy. At least she hoped it was playful. If it was serious and he passed out from lack of oxygen...

Gon shoved her off, and she offered little resistance.

If she accidentally hurt one of them, they wouldn't trust her. Playing with them like this was fine. She could have fun. Being friendly and acting like one of them built a sense of trust even if they hadn't known her all that long, which would come in handy should she trick or betray them, which she was sure she would, eventually.

Leorio was already wrapped up in his blankets, groaning after one of them had kicked him in his gut. He mumbled something about his poor kidney before pulling his sheets over his head. "I get that it's fun, but we all need to sleep. Please?"

The 'please' did it. All three kids jumped towards Leorio, pillows held high and at the ready.

*     *     *

Needless to say, Lucky was surprised to see Emo Loser jump in front of his path less than a block from his apartment. He was even more surprised when he found himself in a position that strongly suggested he was being kidnapped.

Lucky was kicked to his knees from the back, left arm twisted behind him threateningly and the other already dangling. Every pulse sent from his heart was thunder vibrating through his arm, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming. Every beat sent his skin shivering, and his twitching fingers shot sharp stabs of pain all the way up to his spine. He let out a small whine and tried to look at his injured arm.

Lucky had gone through many broken bones before. His arm wasn't broken, but it was already swelling a bit and hurt like crazy to move. Everything from his elbow down screamed with pain, slapping his tired self wide awake. It hurt. His heartbeat thundered through his body so viciously he was surprised it wasn't echoing down the street.

"Struggle and I do the same to your other arm."

Lucky was hauled up to his feet, and he let out a small cry when the sudden movement shot another jolt of pain rippling through his injury.

"Danchou will have questions."

The man locked his hands around Lucky's wrist like an iron, unyielding and cold. He was still behind him and had one uninjured arm twisted painfully behind his back as a constant warning to listen to all he said. Walking, Lucky's dangling, swollen right arm occasionally bumped painfully against his leg. His yelps were ignored. Gradually speeding up, the man led him through the backstreets of the city to wherever he was being taken.

"Tch. You so slow."

Lucky was trying. He was running as hard as he could, and every pounding leap he took sent a kick to his bruised arm, the swelling far worse than it had been before. It still wasn't enough? He felt his insides splitting as his chest heaved, lungs burning with panic and the yearning for Lucky to be a normal person. Why did this have to happen? He'd just wanted to sleep, and running was quite on the other side of the scale from resting in peace. He stumbled once, but from a threatening tug up his uninjured yet twisted arm, he pushed off and continued to move.

It would be so much easier to run if his other arm weren't twisted behind his back. How much longer did he have to run at his top speed which was deemed 'slow' from this person kidnapping him? Lucky just wanted to hit the hay after a long, long day of many incidents.

He wished a lamppost would just magically fall from the sky, but it didn't seem to be happening. Of all the times for his bad luck to not affect his surroundings, this had to be it. Normal people might consider being kidnapped bad luck, but not Lucky. Lucky's was more Murphy's Law type. Nothing affected him directly, but little unfortunate miracles would happen one after the other, causing chaos around him. He did notice that it seemed to dial down whenever he was tired. Maybe he was so worn down from the running and his injured arm that his bad luck had fizzled out?

As they kept running, Lucky almost felt ready to collapse and stop, even if it meant his left arm would become swollen and aching like his right. Still, he knew he would be forced to run even then, and running with one injured arm was so much easier than running with two. But it hurt. All of him hurt. 

They were out of the city now, heading towards a building in the distance. Lucky prayed that was where they were stopping. It was already so far away. If he were forced to run even further beyond, he wondered whether he could make it without passing out. Taking a moment to lick his dry lips from the blowing dust, he surged on with a ragged tiredness.

As they approached the building, Lucky felt a sense of relief flow through him before realizing they weren't slowing. Even when inside the building, they didn't slow. Lucky fought the urge to scream in frustration when he saw the stairs. Stairs. Up they went, Lucky panting and Emo Loser trying to push him to go faster.

Some way or another, Lucky found it within himself to ascend those stairs. At the top floor, they finally came to a stop in the middle of a vast room. Lucky collapsed.

His legs were quaking, burning and limp. His chest heaved as he took in sweet, still air, not whipping against his face or whistling in between his pounding heartbeats. Once he'd stopped running, his entire being throbbed miserably and he wasn't sure whether he could start up again. Right now, dying didn't seem like that bad of an idea.

"Feitan." A calm voice floated though the air, melodious. Unhurried, yet urgent. Curious and uncaring, tone drizzled with sweet honey. Great, another person.

Lucky lifted his head in an attempt to get a glimpse of the man who had spoken, but his vision swam, black spots exploding and obscuring his view. He dropped his head, but his vision blurred, darker and darker.

*     *     *

"Who have you brought this time, Feitan?"

The person who had just collapsed onto his hands and knees wobbled for a moment before slumping onto the ground with a thud, unconscious.

"Weakling, apparently," Feitan bit before shaking his head.

"He's passed out from exhaustion," Chrollo stated, getting up from his comfortable spot on his cement block. Shrouded by candlelight, he took a step forward before issuing his order to Pakunoda and Kortopi, who were guarding him. "Kortopi, wait at the entrance of the building and send Machi up here when she gets back. Paku, stay here until this young man wakes up."

They both nodded. Kortopi left, small feet padding down the hall.

"Feitan, why did you bring him here?" Chrollo questioned.

He grumbled in response. "His Nen is powerful, but he don't know about it. If it's Hatsu, maybe you can steal ability."

"He is a Nen user?" Chrollo leaned forward. The unconscious person on the ground seemed like most others in the world, one who hadn't had his nodes properly opened yet.

Feitan abruptly kicked the person's shoulder. No response. "Tch. He was leaking it before."

"Leaking?" Chrollo repeated. "So his nodes have been opened already, but he hasn't learned to control it. Yet when he is unconscious, he seems to be entering a state of imperfect Zetsu. In fact, all his basics seem far from polished. You claim he already has a Hatsu?"

"Maybe Hatsu." Feitan sighed while looking at the body who was still not waking. "He doesn't know own aura and can't control it, everything his aura touched... His aura's not round, leaking, or quiet. His aura alive, and lashes out constantly. Almost everything his aura attacked was affected."

Chrollo gave a slow nod. "What do you mean, 'affected'?"

How to explain this. "Bad things happen around him," he tentatively said, knowing that it didn't explain the entire situation in the slightest. It only prompted confusion and questions. Feitan tried a different approach. "When I was going to kill him, his aura lashed out. All my Nen disappeared. But he didn't know what he done, still scared a bit but tried not to show."

"So this young man has an aura that seems to move on its own, or subconsciously. When he feels threatened, that aura focuses its attack on a specific point instead of lashing out at random objects like it normally would function," Chrollo summarized neatly. "And this focused attack forced you into a state of Zetsu?"

"No." A pause, and with no more questions but instead a gentle prodding look coming from Danchou, Feitan continued. "I said before. Felt like my aura disappeared."

There was yet another silence before the person stirred awake, groaning. Seeing his injured arm pinned under his body, he struggled to right himself with his other arm, shaky but intact. His breathing was irregular, sucking in breaths and quietly whimpering in the most awkward of places, but it was evident that it was due to the pain rather from exhaustion. Checking to see the damage done to his arm, he gave a small "ugh" before raising his gaze to them.

"Should I check him now, Danchou?" Pakunoda asked from her corner. She'd been so quiet Feitan had almost forgotten her presence. Almost.

The captive jolted back just a bit, trying to cover up his confused alarm. His Nen, however, gave him away. Cloudy and black, it struck out randomly and rapidly, taking on a shape that was anything but calm. The candlelights flickered and were all extinguished with one breeze, and a cement block tumbled from near the window and crashed to the floor, shooting debris across the ground. A second-long pause later, the colored glass dome crumbled further, shards of rainbow raining down on top of the new ruin.

As Pakunoda approached the captive, Feitan gripped his head and held a sharp nail to his throat, ignoring the fact that his aura once again left him. It didn't matter. Feitan was still more powerful than him in all aspects. He had the upper hand. "Cooperate," he hissed before pushing him Pakunoda's way.

"Don't worry," Pakunoda drew out, trying to make her voice soothing as possible without losing the air of superiority. She respected the way he looked her straight in the eye, instead of staring at her chest. No, this young one was nice. Even when they had captured him, he was still dignified, though he did look like a tired raccoon digging around in the trash. She sat down next to the captive and slung an arm over his shoulder, careful not to crush his bruised hand which lay limp on the ground. As soon as their shoulders touched, she knotted her brow, puzzled. Her aura had all but fizzled out, leaving her with a strange sense of vulnerability.

"I said cooperate," Feitan growled.

"But I didn't do anything!" the captive argued, but Pakunoda could feel his hollow, thundering pulse.

She stood up and turned to face Chrollo. "Danchou, his Nen is acting by itself. I think he needs to be calm for my ability to work, otherwise his aura lashes out at me because it feels threatened. Feitan." Paku glanced at him, who looked mere inches away from breaking bones. "Stop scaring him. It's having a negative effect."

Suddenly, Feitan slipped and fell. He, Feitan Portor. He glared at his feet and the rock which had betrayed him before realizing whose fault it really was. Shooting daggers at the captive who looked more intimidated by the second while his murky aura grew to the size of a small house, Feitan snarled from behind his collar. He could overpower him. It was so easy. Or he could torture the kid. It didn't matter if he had a mysterious, large and looming aura if the kid didn't know what to do with it. Heck, the captive didn't even know what Nen was. It would have been so easy for Feitan to kill him right then and there, but he refrained. Aura could exist after death. He could dispose of him, but there was the possibility it would cause his Nen to cling to Feitan forever.

And he wanted anything but that.

Sighing, Feitan stood, brushing dust off his clothes from where he had fallen. "Do what you want," he grumbled as he left the room.

Chrollo clasped his hands together and plastered a welcoming smile on his face. "Hello. I'm afraid you won't be able to leave until we permit you to, but I do have questions for you that I would like answers for as soon as possible. Would you prefer right now, or tomorrow morning?"

In the hall, a loud crash was heard, followed by a long string of foreign swearing coming from a short, dark man.

Lucky ignored it. All he could feel was the strange combination of pain and numbness from his right arm, and the heavy bags under his eyes. It hurt to blink his eyes, and hurt even more to peel them open again.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he answered, and fell onto his uninjured side, already asleep.

Well well well, Lucky was NOT a one-time stranger. Man, I can't believe I spent so many chapters on ONE night. And I think all the action with Chrollo getting captured and stuff all happens in one day too, but I'll have to check.
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