Dis Aliter Visum - Chapter 83 - 2,803 words
Note: I'd been wondering how to introduce this plan for so long omg. I think I chose the perfect spot, really. :DD
Beta-reader: ItachiTenshi and Lea Summers
Chapter summary: Kurapica's plan.
Chapter 83
Kurapica stood in the empty hotel room, holding his breath, all of his senses on alert. He couldn't hear Kuroro as he exited the room, the man walked far too quietly for him to pinpoint his location. He could only wait in silence in hopes that Kuroro wouldn't linger by the door. The minutes slowly trickled by. He nervously fingered the phone he'd shoved into his jeans pocket, his other hand clasping the list of names and transactions that Kuroro had left for him to research before he was to answer the calls. Preferably while Kuroro was eating his lunch, as he would then have all of the information that he needed by the time the first call came in. Kurapica glanced back at the small, ugly desk set in the corner of the room. The Spider Head had a the small laptop on it for Kurapica to use while talking on the phone.
The blond kept his eyes on the door and slowly took out his cell. His hand tightened around it and he took a few steps back. He glanced at the laptop again, before turning his gaze towards the door once more. His heart was beating loudly in his ears.
He didn't really like the task he had set for himself, but it was the only solution that he could see to his problem. His situation was dangerous. The closer he and Kuroro got, the more confused he became about his priorities. And this wouldn't do. At. All.
More than the dizziness and trepidations that overtook him whenever Kuroro touched him, the fact that he was starting to actually enjoy their talk, their banter, just spending time together, that was a big, big problem. It shouldn't have happened, but it had. Now the only thing that he could do was damage control. He was slowly losing parts of himself, something that he was all too aware of and definitely did not like. He wasn't about to lose himself to Kuroro's seduction, no matter how enticing the prospect was when, when in the heat of the moment. He had to regain some amount of control. He had to.
Slowly, he walked over to the laptop and set his phone and the paper he'd been given down next to it. He glanced at the door again. Kuroro wasn't coming back in, not until much later. It was all right. He could do this. He pulled the electric cord out from the back of the laptop, then turned it upside down. He unsnapped the battery pack and slid it away, then set everything back down on top of the desk. If there was a camera, he didn't want to take the chance that Kuroro was recording him. His eyes strayed towards the door again. A deep breath in, a deep breath out and he picked up his phone again.
His fingers clenched tightly around it. He used his thumb to access his contact list and scrolled through it until he got to the person that he needed. The only one he thought could get him out of this mess. Well, part of it anyway. He looked up to the door again, and his features tightened into a resolute frown. He pressed the dial button and brought the phone up to his ear.
He heard it ring once. Twice. Three times. His palms were getting sweaty. Four times. Five. He took in a breath and held it when he heard a click.
“My, my,” the man on the other end of the line drawled out. “How rare of you to call.”
“I would rather not have to do this,” the Kuruta assured him, his tone hard. “You just happen to have a skill I want to use.”
“How cold,” there was a chuckle on the other end of the line. “And after all that we've been through together. It took me a lot of work to allow this little reunion between you and the one we both... desire.”
“I hope you don't expect me to thank you for that,” Kurapica scoffed, his tone getting harder still. “In any case, I'll get straight to the point: I could use your skills. Are you willing to help me or not?”
“Hmm,” the tone was cheerful, an obvious sign that the man was just toying with Kurapica, mocking him. It seemed to be a widespread past time amongst perverts. “I don't know... there is something so enticing about having you beg for my help -”
“I am certainly not begging!” Kurapica exclaimed, louder than he meant to. He glanced at the door again. Gods, he missed the use of his nen. He had to get it back somehow. “I am asking you,” he corrected, “whether you're willing to help me. If you aren't, stop wasting my time and tell me.”
“So enticing,” the creep reiterated. “It was such a good thing that I agreed to postpone the fight that I was looking forward to so much, if it means that you're growing more powerful and delicious.”
Kurapica resisted the urge to snap that having his nen sealed for months and having to rely on his enemy for protection was a very strange way to get him to grow stronger. He felt the words try to get out and clamped down on them, letting out a sigh instead.
“If you don't have any intention of helping, I'm hanging up.”
“I'll help,” the other assured him. “It sounds interesting and I'm bored, waiting for you both to be done with your little project.”
Kurapica hesitated a moment. There was something odd going on. “Why did you help him?” he wanted to know, more out of genuine curiosity than because he was angry about it. “You could have fought him then and kept me out of your little schemes.”
“He told me he had a debt to settle first,” came the explanation, which didn't really clarify anything. “He said he would make you stronger.” There was an unsettling sort of cackle. “Ah, I can't wait to see how you've grown. You've always been very... tempting. But not yet... not yet....”
Kurapica heaved another sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Patience. He had to keep calm to deal with this treacherous man. “Hisoka,” he finally said, “we're heading south towards Iono. After that, I don't know. I'll keep you updated.”
“I'm a little busy at the moment,” the jester sang-song. “Call me again soon!”
The line went dead. Kurapica lowered his phone and scowled at it, as if he could somehow glare through it to the unpredictable, dangerous semi-ally he had to rely on for his plan to succeed. Gods, he hated depending on others, but that it had to be this man made it even worse. With a sigh, he set his cellphone down on top of the desk, then put the battery back into the small laptop and plugged it in. He raked his hand through his hair and sat down. He had some research to do.
He scanned through each item on the list that Kuroro had given him. He wrote down plenty of notes on the hotel stationary, making sure that he could answer just about any question thrown at him during the phone calls that he expected would come too soon for his comfort. He glanced at the time on his phone. Surely, Kuroro was at Rizzoli's place now. He set it back down and went through the intel he'd gathered one more time. At some point, he ate, but the stress was making it hard to stomach food so he soon gave up. And waited some more.
In the end, it was nearing dinner time before the first call came in. To Kurapica's relief, Kuroro had set it up so that he could see which person on the Spider Head's list they were calling. He did take a moment to wonder just when Kuroro had fiddled with his phone, but he shoved the thought away. He had a job to do.
All in all, four calls were made. He was careful not to answer them too quickly, so that they wouldn't know that he was waiting right by the phone. To his immense relief, they asked no question that he didn't know the answer to and, although he felt bad about all the lies, he was aware that his getting the Scarlet Eyes that Rizzoli possessed was entirely dependent on how well he could fib this. He gave Kuroro credit for many sales and acquisitions and was sure to tell them he was satisfied with the older man's services. One word that did not make it in his exchanges with Rizzoli's attendants was the word 'amazing.'
Finally, it was clear that no more calls would be coming in. He had a quick dinner then settled on a chair with a book. He checked the alarm clock regularly, wondering when Kuroro was going to return. Time went by slowly. His hands were still a bit sweaty from the anxiety of attempting to defy Kuroro when he had no way of winning a fight against him. But as much as he was afraid, he was also resolute. He was going to see this through.
The light was dimming slowly and Kurapica glanced towards the window, wondering how much longer he had before he had to retreat to the bathroom like the previous night. He paused. He thought he'd seen a shadow move from the left to the right, right at the bottom of the window. He was about to turn away when he stopped short again and tilted his head. He was pretty certain he'd heard running footsteps run up to the door, but it couldn't be Kuroro. The man was silent, even with those clunky boots of his, so it had to be someone else. Quietly, the blond placed his bookmark in and closed the volume that he'd been reading, setting it down on the dresser next to him. As silently as he could, he got up and moved deeper into the room. He didn't have time to move very far when the door was violently shoved open. There was the sound of many guns and Kurapica dove down, went into a roll, righted himself up right by his bags, and he grabbed the straps and flung them towards his attackers before throwing himself behind his bed.
He heard a curse and a ripping sound, and he knew he didn't have much longer before his assailants reacted. He needed his chains, or a stick or, or anything. His knife! He reached to his back, where he usually stuck it inside of the waistband of his jeans, but it wasn't there. Where was it?! Damn, on the counter-top in the bathroom. He remembered setting it down there the previous night when Kuroro came in.
He didn't dare push himself up from the floor, not without a plan anyway. His eyes started searching desperately for a weapon and landed on Kuroro's knife. It had probably been thrown from his bag when he'd flung it at his attackers. Why it had been in his bag and not the older man's, Kurapica had no idea, but it was fortunate, so long as he could trust the Spider Head's assurances that it was only coated with a numbing agent and wouldn't be fatal. As insane as the thought was, he'd have to trust his word for it.
His hand closed around the hilt and he pulled it close, sliding it out of its sheath, then shoved at the mattress and box-spring, pushing both up for more coverage. His makeshift shield wouldn't stop bullets, but it'd block his attackers' view and hopefully, they'd miss him. More shots rang out and he jumped, placed both hands on the side of the mattress that was now up in the air and jumped over it towards his assailants. He grazed the first one on the way down, then fell into a crouch and threw his arm in a semi-circle getting a few more people on their calves. They fell down, and Kurapica could only hope that they weren't dead. He didn't have time to think about them too much, though.
He straightened up, switching the knife to his other hand to slash upwards at another man who fell as well.
“Bastard!” he heard to his right and his shirt was roughly grabbed before he was pulled.
He barely had turned to that man, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he pushed himself backwards. The man - no, woman - who was attacking him couldn't stop her momentum and her knife slashed through the top that the man who'd grabbed him was still holding on to. The woman's knife was a problem. If she was any good with it, she'd be able to block him so he didn't leave her time to right herself up and slashed at her arm before switching the knife back to his right hand to get at the man. He went down, and Kurapica was left standing, surrounded by a bunch of men and women in black suits lying on the floor right where they'd fallen.
He crouched down and pressed his fingers against the neck of the man closest to him. There was a steady pulse and he breathed in relief. He still took the time to check each and every single one of them, to make absolutely sure that they were still alive at least. He was just straightening up, still only wearing a loose-fitting pair of jeans, the remnants of his shirt on the floor at his feet, when Kuroro's car screeched to a halt in front of their room, parked at an angle. The door opened and the Ryodan leader got quickly out, walking over to him briskly.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Kurapica assured him.
He walked back to where he'd let the sheath drop and slid the knife safely in. It wouldn't do to accidentally paralyse himself or Kuroro. It had just slid in place when Kuroro grabbed his hand, pulling him outside. He grabbed his bags on the way out and Kurapica stumbled after him.
“Wait, what are you -” He suddenly noticed the strong smell of blood coming from the older man. “Did you just kill someone?!”
“Didn't leave me a choice,” Kuroro said and opened the door for Kurapica to get in the passenger seat, before opening the door just behind it and throwing his bags on the back seat.
“My clothes,” Kurapica said when Kuroro slid behind the wheel. “Is it okay leaving them all?”
“No time,” Kuroro said and put the car in reverse before peeling out of the parking lot.
“You could have let me put a shirt on, at least,” Kurapica protested. He was glad his phone and cards were in his pant pockets, at least. He slid the phone out.
“Just get one of mine,” Kuroro said, sticking his thumb back to where he'd thrown the bags on the back seat.
Kurapica twisted around and pulled one of the bags closer, sliding the zipper even as his thumb pressed the emergency number on his phone. He put it against his head and reached into the bag blindly.
“What are you doing?” Kuroro asked, throwing him a glance.
“Calling an ambulance,” Kurapica said.
Kuroro threw him another look. “For your assailants?” He looked at him like he'd lost his head.
“They're still alive,” the blond replied, pulling a shirt from the bag. Black. Of course. The call connected and he gave them the name of the motel and hung up. “Some of them were small and if the numbing agent is potent enough, they could get into respiratory failure.”
He pushed the seat-belt over his head so he could pull the shirt on. He was positively floating in it, and that was sort of annoying. Plus, the large V collar slid off of his left shoulder and when he pulled it up, it slid off of his right.
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, pulling the seat-belt back over his head. He caught the look Kuroro gave him and paused.
Kuroro turned his head back to the front and tightened his hands on the steering wheel, his mouth tightening into an unreadable expression.
Kurapica bit his lower lip and tried to calm down. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and his heart was thudding loudly in his chest.
“Did you get the Eyes?” he asked.
“They're in the Fun Fun Cloth,” Kuroro assured him.
“Okay,” the blond began, but Kuroro still had a sort of dark look on his face and he fell silent. They drove on through the night, then the entire day, only stopping once for gas. Kuroro wouldn't even go in to buy anything, but used a card to pay right at the pump, and then they were off again.
The silence in the car was deafening.
Beta-reader: ItachiTenshi and Lea Summers
Chapter summary: Kurapica's plan.
Chapter 83
Kurapica stood in the empty hotel room, holding his breath, all of his senses on alert. He couldn't hear Kuroro as he exited the room, the man walked far too quietly for him to pinpoint his location. He could only wait in silence in hopes that Kuroro wouldn't linger by the door. The minutes slowly trickled by. He nervously fingered the phone he'd shoved into his jeans pocket, his other hand clasping the list of names and transactions that Kuroro had left for him to research before he was to answer the calls. Preferably while Kuroro was eating his lunch, as he would then have all of the information that he needed by the time the first call came in. Kurapica glanced back at the small, ugly desk set in the corner of the room. The Spider Head had a the small laptop on it for Kurapica to use while talking on the phone.
The blond kept his eyes on the door and slowly took out his cell. His hand tightened around it and he took a few steps back. He glanced at the laptop again, before turning his gaze towards the door once more. His heart was beating loudly in his ears.
He didn't really like the task he had set for himself, but it was the only solution that he could see to his problem. His situation was dangerous. The closer he and Kuroro got, the more confused he became about his priorities. And this wouldn't do. At. All.
More than the dizziness and trepidations that overtook him whenever Kuroro touched him, the fact that he was starting to actually enjoy their talk, their banter, just spending time together, that was a big, big problem. It shouldn't have happened, but it had. Now the only thing that he could do was damage control. He was slowly losing parts of himself, something that he was all too aware of and definitely did not like. He wasn't about to lose himself to Kuroro's seduction, no matter how enticing the prospect was when, when in the heat of the moment. He had to regain some amount of control. He had to.
Slowly, he walked over to the laptop and set his phone and the paper he'd been given down next to it. He glanced at the door again. Kuroro wasn't coming back in, not until much later. It was all right. He could do this. He pulled the electric cord out from the back of the laptop, then turned it upside down. He unsnapped the battery pack and slid it away, then set everything back down on top of the desk. If there was a camera, he didn't want to take the chance that Kuroro was recording him. His eyes strayed towards the door again. A deep breath in, a deep breath out and he picked up his phone again.
His fingers clenched tightly around it. He used his thumb to access his contact list and scrolled through it until he got to the person that he needed. The only one he thought could get him out of this mess. Well, part of it anyway. He looked up to the door again, and his features tightened into a resolute frown. He pressed the dial button and brought the phone up to his ear.
He heard it ring once. Twice. Three times. His palms were getting sweaty. Four times. Five. He took in a breath and held it when he heard a click.
“My, my,” the man on the other end of the line drawled out. “How rare of you to call.”
“I would rather not have to do this,” the Kuruta assured him, his tone hard. “You just happen to have a skill I want to use.”
“How cold,” there was a chuckle on the other end of the line. “And after all that we've been through together. It took me a lot of work to allow this little reunion between you and the one we both... desire.”
“I hope you don't expect me to thank you for that,” Kurapica scoffed, his tone getting harder still. “In any case, I'll get straight to the point: I could use your skills. Are you willing to help me or not?”
“Hmm,” the tone was cheerful, an obvious sign that the man was just toying with Kurapica, mocking him. It seemed to be a widespread past time amongst perverts. “I don't know... there is something so enticing about having you beg for my help -”
“I am certainly not begging!” Kurapica exclaimed, louder than he meant to. He glanced at the door again. Gods, he missed the use of his nen. He had to get it back somehow. “I am asking you,” he corrected, “whether you're willing to help me. If you aren't, stop wasting my time and tell me.”
“So enticing,” the creep reiterated. “It was such a good thing that I agreed to postpone the fight that I was looking forward to so much, if it means that you're growing more powerful and delicious.”
Kurapica resisted the urge to snap that having his nen sealed for months and having to rely on his enemy for protection was a very strange way to get him to grow stronger. He felt the words try to get out and clamped down on them, letting out a sigh instead.
“If you don't have any intention of helping, I'm hanging up.”
“I'll help,” the other assured him. “It sounds interesting and I'm bored, waiting for you both to be done with your little project.”
Kurapica hesitated a moment. There was something odd going on. “Why did you help him?” he wanted to know, more out of genuine curiosity than because he was angry about it. “You could have fought him then and kept me out of your little schemes.”
“He told me he had a debt to settle first,” came the explanation, which didn't really clarify anything. “He said he would make you stronger.” There was an unsettling sort of cackle. “Ah, I can't wait to see how you've grown. You've always been very... tempting. But not yet... not yet....”
Kurapica heaved another sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Patience. He had to keep calm to deal with this treacherous man. “Hisoka,” he finally said, “we're heading south towards Iono. After that, I don't know. I'll keep you updated.”
“I'm a little busy at the moment,” the jester sang-song. “Call me again soon!”
The line went dead. Kurapica lowered his phone and scowled at it, as if he could somehow glare through it to the unpredictable, dangerous semi-ally he had to rely on for his plan to succeed. Gods, he hated depending on others, but that it had to be this man made it even worse. With a sigh, he set his cellphone down on top of the desk, then put the battery back into the small laptop and plugged it in. He raked his hand through his hair and sat down. He had some research to do.
He scanned through each item on the list that Kuroro had given him. He wrote down plenty of notes on the hotel stationary, making sure that he could answer just about any question thrown at him during the phone calls that he expected would come too soon for his comfort. He glanced at the time on his phone. Surely, Kuroro was at Rizzoli's place now. He set it back down and went through the intel he'd gathered one more time. At some point, he ate, but the stress was making it hard to stomach food so he soon gave up. And waited some more.
In the end, it was nearing dinner time before the first call came in. To Kurapica's relief, Kuroro had set it up so that he could see which person on the Spider Head's list they were calling. He did take a moment to wonder just when Kuroro had fiddled with his phone, but he shoved the thought away. He had a job to do.
All in all, four calls were made. He was careful not to answer them too quickly, so that they wouldn't know that he was waiting right by the phone. To his immense relief, they asked no question that he didn't know the answer to and, although he felt bad about all the lies, he was aware that his getting the Scarlet Eyes that Rizzoli possessed was entirely dependent on how well he could fib this. He gave Kuroro credit for many sales and acquisitions and was sure to tell them he was satisfied with the older man's services. One word that did not make it in his exchanges with Rizzoli's attendants was the word 'amazing.'
Finally, it was clear that no more calls would be coming in. He had a quick dinner then settled on a chair with a book. He checked the alarm clock regularly, wondering when Kuroro was going to return. Time went by slowly. His hands were still a bit sweaty from the anxiety of attempting to defy Kuroro when he had no way of winning a fight against him. But as much as he was afraid, he was also resolute. He was going to see this through.
The light was dimming slowly and Kurapica glanced towards the window, wondering how much longer he had before he had to retreat to the bathroom like the previous night. He paused. He thought he'd seen a shadow move from the left to the right, right at the bottom of the window. He was about to turn away when he stopped short again and tilted his head. He was pretty certain he'd heard running footsteps run up to the door, but it couldn't be Kuroro. The man was silent, even with those clunky boots of his, so it had to be someone else. Quietly, the blond placed his bookmark in and closed the volume that he'd been reading, setting it down on the dresser next to him. As silently as he could, he got up and moved deeper into the room. He didn't have time to move very far when the door was violently shoved open. There was the sound of many guns and Kurapica dove down, went into a roll, righted himself up right by his bags, and he grabbed the straps and flung them towards his attackers before throwing himself behind his bed.
He heard a curse and a ripping sound, and he knew he didn't have much longer before his assailants reacted. He needed his chains, or a stick or, or anything. His knife! He reached to his back, where he usually stuck it inside of the waistband of his jeans, but it wasn't there. Where was it?! Damn, on the counter-top in the bathroom. He remembered setting it down there the previous night when Kuroro came in.
He didn't dare push himself up from the floor, not without a plan anyway. His eyes started searching desperately for a weapon and landed on Kuroro's knife. It had probably been thrown from his bag when he'd flung it at his attackers. Why it had been in his bag and not the older man's, Kurapica had no idea, but it was fortunate, so long as he could trust the Spider Head's assurances that it was only coated with a numbing agent and wouldn't be fatal. As insane as the thought was, he'd have to trust his word for it.
His hand closed around the hilt and he pulled it close, sliding it out of its sheath, then shoved at the mattress and box-spring, pushing both up for more coverage. His makeshift shield wouldn't stop bullets, but it'd block his attackers' view and hopefully, they'd miss him. More shots rang out and he jumped, placed both hands on the side of the mattress that was now up in the air and jumped over it towards his assailants. He grazed the first one on the way down, then fell into a crouch and threw his arm in a semi-circle getting a few more people on their calves. They fell down, and Kurapica could only hope that they weren't dead. He didn't have time to think about them too much, though.
He straightened up, switching the knife to his other hand to slash upwards at another man who fell as well.
“Bastard!” he heard to his right and his shirt was roughly grabbed before he was pulled.
He barely had turned to that man, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he pushed himself backwards. The man - no, woman - who was attacking him couldn't stop her momentum and her knife slashed through the top that the man who'd grabbed him was still holding on to. The woman's knife was a problem. If she was any good with it, she'd be able to block him so he didn't leave her time to right herself up and slashed at her arm before switching the knife back to his right hand to get at the man. He went down, and Kurapica was left standing, surrounded by a bunch of men and women in black suits lying on the floor right where they'd fallen.
He crouched down and pressed his fingers against the neck of the man closest to him. There was a steady pulse and he breathed in relief. He still took the time to check each and every single one of them, to make absolutely sure that they were still alive at least. He was just straightening up, still only wearing a loose-fitting pair of jeans, the remnants of his shirt on the floor at his feet, when Kuroro's car screeched to a halt in front of their room, parked at an angle. The door opened and the Ryodan leader got quickly out, walking over to him briskly.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Kurapica assured him.
He walked back to where he'd let the sheath drop and slid the knife safely in. It wouldn't do to accidentally paralyse himself or Kuroro. It had just slid in place when Kuroro grabbed his hand, pulling him outside. He grabbed his bags on the way out and Kurapica stumbled after him.
“Wait, what are you -” He suddenly noticed the strong smell of blood coming from the older man. “Did you just kill someone?!”
“Didn't leave me a choice,” Kuroro said and opened the door for Kurapica to get in the passenger seat, before opening the door just behind it and throwing his bags on the back seat.
“My clothes,” Kurapica said when Kuroro slid behind the wheel. “Is it okay leaving them all?”
“No time,” Kuroro said and put the car in reverse before peeling out of the parking lot.
“You could have let me put a shirt on, at least,” Kurapica protested. He was glad his phone and cards were in his pant pockets, at least. He slid the phone out.
“Just get one of mine,” Kuroro said, sticking his thumb back to where he'd thrown the bags on the back seat.
Kurapica twisted around and pulled one of the bags closer, sliding the zipper even as his thumb pressed the emergency number on his phone. He put it against his head and reached into the bag blindly.
“What are you doing?” Kuroro asked, throwing him a glance.
“Calling an ambulance,” Kurapica said.
Kuroro threw him another look. “For your assailants?” He looked at him like he'd lost his head.
“They're still alive,” the blond replied, pulling a shirt from the bag. Black. Of course. The call connected and he gave them the name of the motel and hung up. “Some of them were small and if the numbing agent is potent enough, they could get into respiratory failure.”
He pushed the seat-belt over his head so he could pull the shirt on. He was positively floating in it, and that was sort of annoying. Plus, the large V collar slid off of his left shoulder and when he pulled it up, it slid off of his right.
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, pulling the seat-belt back over his head. He caught the look Kuroro gave him and paused.
Kuroro turned his head back to the front and tightened his hands on the steering wheel, his mouth tightening into an unreadable expression.
Kurapica bit his lower lip and tried to calm down. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and his heart was thudding loudly in his chest.
“Did you get the Eyes?” he asked.
“They're in the Fun Fun Cloth,” Kuroro assured him.
“Okay,” the blond began, but Kuroro still had a sort of dark look on his face and he fell silent. They drove on through the night, then the entire day, only stopping once for gas. Kuroro wouldn't even go in to buy anything, but used a card to pay right at the pump, and then they were off again.
The silence in the car was deafening.