Dis Aliter Visum - Chapter 99 - 2,853 words
Note: been sick for two months straight. can't keep food down and i worked my way through an entire bottle of antiemetic. fml. this has also been the hardest chapter i have ever written for dav, though you wouldn't know just reading it like this.
Beta-reader: Jo, Gold and Lea Summers all helped!
Chapter summary: A twelve-legged Spider.
Chapter 99
Morning found Kuroro in bed, an armful of hot blond pressed against his chest. He slid his eyes open and looked down to the golden hair, which was all that he could see of the Kuruta, and couldn't help the smile that slowly tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was an honest smile, one that initially didn’t trouble him. He was genuinely glad with the way that Kurapica was snuggling against him, a joy that had nothing to do with planning or victory, but something deeper, quieter, yet stronger all the same.
This was bad.
He suddenly realized that he was standing on the edge of a deep abyss, one that he had almost taken a step into. How had he even allowed himself to come this close to losing his grip on reality?
He stilled, conscious now that his hand had been stroking down Kurapica's back in a slow, even rhythm, as his mind processed the situation. He frowned to himself as his hand stilled, feeling suddenly very foolish.
“It felt good,” the blond murmured against his chest, then snuggled in closer. “You didn’t have to stop.”
“You’re awake,” Kuroro said, not letting surprise slip into his voice, though Kurapica’s voice had effectively put a stop to his train of thoughts. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Kurapica greeted sleepily. “Actually, no. I don’t want it to be morning yet.”
“What if I got you some coffee?” Kuroro asked, amusement seeping into his voice despite himself.
“You’d need to move and I don’t want you to,” Kurapica replied.
“Aren’t we supposed to meet your friends for breakfast?” the taller man reminded him. “We’ll be late, and they were planning to leave today, weren’t they?”
That seemed to wake the younger man up and he stretched languidly, his lean body pressing slightly against the older man’s. Gods, Kuroro wished they didn’t have plans for the day. Kurapica felt so delicious against him like this.
Speaking of plans....
“Was last night an attempt to distract me from what we’ve planned?” he asked, keeping his tone light, like he wasn’t being serious.
Kurapica pulled back slightly to study his face.
“It depends,” he said, semi-seriously, “did it work?”
There was a pause that was just a little too long to be casual.
“You wish,” Kuroro said at last as he looked away. “Come on, let’s find ourselves some coffee.”
He disentangled himself from the blond’s tempting body and walked to his bags so that he could find some clothes for the day. He heard Kurapica sigh, then follow suit behind him. It took him about a few short minutes to get dressed, then they made coffee and packed their belongings, as they were leaving today to head to Ryuuseigai.
Once they had gathered all of their things in the Fun Fun Cloth, they finally made it out of the hotel room and down to the lobby. They made another stop at the coffee shop that was set up in a corner of the lobby, then waited a couple of minutes before the teenage Hunters made their way down to ground floor as well. When they arrived, they made a beeline for Kurapica and started chatting excitedly with him. Hisoka was late, but Kuroro wasn’t entirely surprised. He sipped at his coffee and idly watched the people come and go. At some point, he spotted some policemen walking up to the counter, but he didn’t tense up or otherwise give himself away. The three younger members of their company were talking normally, either trying to appear natural or unaware of their presence. Either way, it worked, because the men in blue eventually left the hotel. Soon after, Hisoka finally made it down the lobby and they filed out to find a restaurant where they could have a proper breakfast.
They ate while chatting amiably, the two youngest members seeming to want to spend as much time as possible talking to Kurapica, etiquette be damned. They ate like teenage boys, speaking while chewing, occasionally arguing with each other, and generally making a ruckus, while Kurapica was quieter and Hisoka looked on, seemingly bored.
After breakfast, they walked to the train station where they were to go their separate ways. Just before walking to his platform, Gon turned around and fixed a serious gaze on Kuroro.
“If you hurt him,” he said challengingly, “I won’t forgive you.”
“Oh?” Kuroro asked, tilting his head. “What would you do if I ended up hurting him?”
“You wish you knew!” Gon said as he pulled one eyelid down with his right index finger and stuck his tongue out at the older man.
He turned on his heels and ran up the stairs that led to the platform. Killua shifted his gaze from Kuroro to Kurapica and then back.
“Yeah, what he said,” he muttered with a shrug. “Don’t get yourself killed, now,” he added to the blond and followed his friend at a more sedated pace.
The three remaining men turned around and made their way to their own platform. Hisoka looked around unconcernedly, but Kurapica had a pensive frown on his fair features. At some point, Hisoka disappeared in the crowd of commuters, but he caught up with them on the train. He didn’t give a reason for his disappearance, but Kuroro was used to Hisoka coming and going as he pleased and didn’t comment on it. Soon after, the train left the station and Kurapica took out a book to read. Kuroro glanced at him and did the same.
The next couple of days went by slowly, Kurapica becoming quieter and quieter as they got closer to the city where he would have to get inked and then meet his new team. Because Kuroro was going to make sure that Kurapica did both. And then... then it would be time to fulfill his side of the deal and go to Lukso with the blond, to bury the most wondrous treasures to ever pass through Kuroro’s hands.
What a shame.
On the other hand, knowing that he was the only person alive on earth who would ever see those glowing orbs shine with lust and desire? That wasn’t a bad feeling; not a bad feeling at all.
Soon enough, they had reached the limit of where the trains could go and they had to switch to hiking through the rocky desert that surrounded the landfill city on all sides for miles. From quiet, Kurapica became silent and remote, and he watched everything with wide, glazed eyes. Kuroro couldn’t tell if he was curious, worried, or sullen. Perhaps it was a mix of all three.
The day that they were to arrive, Kurapica took out a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal small bubble packets inside, obviously contact lenses. The Spider Head tilted his head curiously as the blond put the black coloured lenses in one by one.
“Worried you’ll give yourself away?” he asked.
Kurapica turned an unreadable stare on the taller man. Kuroro opened his mouth to say something else, but then Hisoka hummed behind him, setting his teeth on edge. It was part amused, part intrigued, and if Kuroro had been afraid of the clown, he would have fled. As it was, he turned a darkening expression on Hisoka and tried to read his psychotic smile, but came up empty.
“I see, I see,” Hisoka said gleefully. “Good choice, good choice. I want to fight you too, now.”
Kurapica sent him a flat, warning stare, then put the small box away. They trekked the remaining way to the outskirts of the city, if one could call it that. Hisoka was still going along with them, although he seemed to stay on the edge of things, looking in with an unnerving grin. Technically, Kurapica had only asked for his help for the last mission and the jester should have left, but Kuroro thought he knew why Hisoka was staying. And if his guess was right, then he wanted to keep Hisoka where he could see him.
Just as they were strolling past the first piles of refuse, Kurapica suddenly paused. Kuroro walked a few more steps before he realised that Kurapica really wasn’t going to take another step. He turned around and tilted his head questioningly. Kurapica met his gaze and hesitated.
“Is there a problem?” Kuroro inquired at last.
“This….” Kurapica began, but then he hesitated, clearly ill at ease. “This is your hometown?”
“Yes,” Kuroro inclined his head in assent, “and my homebase. We need to get you inked before we meet with the rest of my team - they have gathered some of the Scarlet Eyes for you as well, you know.”
Kurapica still hesitated, looking clearly uncomfortable.
“Will I have to get the tattoo first?” he wanted to know.
“Yes,” Kuroro agreed. “I’d intended to do that first.”
“Wh-” Kurapica began but his voice broke, so he tried again, “where will you put it on me?”
Kuroro considered in silence for a moment, thinking carefully of how he would reply to this very loaded question. After a few minutes, he took a few steps back towards the Kuruta, stopping just in front of him.
“I usually let the new member decide where they’re going to have the tattoo,” he said at length.
“But you won’t let me?” the blond wanted to know.
There was another pregnant pause, where Kuroro wondered what the right answer would be.
Truth was, he didn’t mind where Kurapica had the tattoo, so long as he had it; proof that his life now belonged to Kuroro. Yet again, he wanted Kurapica to belong to him in a way that transcended the Spiders as a unit. Through what they’d lived through and experiences, Kurapica wasn’t just one of the Spiders anymore; he was something different, something more important.
“Sure,” Kuroro said at last, “you can choose where you want it.”
“Under my foot,” Kurapica said quickly, then looked uncomfortable for a moment. “That is the only place I would accept the symbol of your group.”
“Under your foot,” the Spider Head echoed, mildly amused, wondering if he should be offended
“Yes,” Kurapica confirmed firmly.
There was another pause where they sized each other up, then Kuroro brought a hand to his chin and considered this for moment.
“I can imagine the reasons, but let me ask anyway,” he said at length. “Why?”
The young Kuruta had a humourless smile and shrugged lightly.
“This entire thing started because I wanted to, in a way, crush the Spiders under my heel,” he explained, “I wouldn’t have met you personally, or gone on this mad adventure, if it weren’t for this.”
Kurapica tilted his head as well, then shrugged again.
“It just seemed fitting, that’s all,” he said at last.
Kuroro considered him in silence for some time.
“Your reasoning is plausible,” he finally said, “but I will have to veto it. Choose somewhere else.”
Kurapica didn’t look surprised by the answer. He let out a sigh, clearly disappointed in spite of his best efforts, but he didn’t voice his discontent.
“Then, the wrist,” he said instead. “Though don’t be surprised if I wear long sleeves or a wrist band all of the time.”
Kuroro was indeed unsurprised, and this compromise was acceptable to him, so he nodded.
“Very well,” he agreed. “It will be on your wrist, and you can cover it as much as you want, save when I deem it necessary to be shown.”
Kurapica glanced at Hisoka and Kuroro followed his gaze.
“I’ll be with you in the tattoo parlour,” he added after a moment. “I want to make sure that it is properly done.”
“Of course,” Kurapica said, his face suddenly a blank mask that made Kuroro uncomfortable.
Well, it wasn’t like he was completely unable to understand what the younger man might be thinking; he had simply decided to ignore most of his opinion on this, as they would never agree, no matter how much it was debated.
Finally, he turned around and started walking again. Kurapica trailed behind him and Kuroro glanced backwards to make sure that he was indeed following. The blond’s face was carefully expressionless, though his fists were clenched, and the black contact lenses gave his eyes a dark, rather unsettling appearance. Hisoka brought up the rear, still silent, still creepy. The jester’s attitude on the trip so far had been so strange. But Kuroro had an idea of why he was there.
He had no intention of letting Kurapica get his way.
The tattoo parlour, such as it was, looked like nothing much on the outside. One wouldn’t even know what it was from looking in from the street, if one could call it that. It was still somewhat on the outskirt of the city, where the streets and building weren’t so organized and everything still more or less looked like a gigantic landfill where people had dug out holes into the piles of garbage in which to live.
Kuroro pushed aside a door that wasn’t supported by hinges, but simply leaning against a wall of refuse, revealing a hole. He stepped aside and turned to invite the others in. They were a little further back that he had expected and he was sort of uncomfortably surprised for a moment. He was so focused on what was to happen and so used to Kurapica actually following him, or at the very least walking by his side, that he hadn’t even considered the fact that Kurapica might have just given him the slip and he wouldn’t have known.
Kurapica was still there, however, unnatural dark eyes flat, face unreadable. Hisoka was grinning wildly and Kuroro knew that this was the time where Hisoka’s real uses would come into play.
The two men preceded him into the squalid room, which was currently empty. Kuroro replaced the door behind them as best he could from inside, then called out further into the shop. There was another opening, some long poles holding the eclectic refuse up somewhat crookedly and Kuroro yelled in its general direction.
“Druskel!” he called out, then waited a moment before trying again. “Druskel, customers!”
There was a grunt and some noise, then a very short man appeared in the doorway.
“It’s you again,” he grumbled. “Who’s the new recruit?”
His eyes slid right over Hisoka to focus on the blond, and he cocked his head.
“Where at?”
He grumbled, walking over to a sort of chair that appeared to be made from parts of other furniture, gizmos and possibly a gurney.
“On his wrist,” Kuroro replied smoothly, and produced a small envelope from inside of his windbreaker. “I have the needles here.”
Druskel made a grunt, then fiddled with the chair to make it comfortable for Kurapica while still allowing him to work.
“I hope you don’t mind pain,” Druskel said gruffly. “People don’t realize how sensitive wrists really are.”
Kurapica shrugged and sat down on an oddly placed cushion. Hisoka moved closer and immediately, Kuroro could see the thin skin-like film covering the blond’s arm and hand, could see how it was linked to Hisoka’s hand, the jester casually leaning against a table, not showing any indication of what he was doing - if one didn’t have gyo to see that is. Kuroro knew what he was looking for, however, knew what the two had been plotting. It was nearly offensive to him just how simple their plan was, and how they somehow expected to pull the wool over his eyes.
“Hisoka,” Kuroro said quietly, dangerously. “Out.”
“Oh?” the jester tilted his head, pressing one long fingernail to his cheek. “Are you asking me out - ” he took a moment to appreciate his own pun, then finished “ - to fight?”
Kuroro didn’t outwardly react, far too used to Hisoka’s antics by now. He glanced at Druskel, but the short, stocky man had stopped feeling intimidated by Spiders, new and old, a long, long time ago, and he simply set to work without looking at them.
“No,” Kuroro specified, returning his gaze to the redhead, “I want you to wait outside, leave, whatever you want to do, but remove your Texture Surprise from his wrist and leave this room.”
“Ah, well,” Hisoka said with an exaggerated shrug, “I’ve been found out, I’ve been found out…. You can’t blame the boy for trying.”
He slinked outside with an enigmatic smile, his eyes fixed on Kuroro until he slid quietly out the door and let it lean back onto the wall of refuse. Kuroro stood by the entrance to make sure that he wouldn’t come back, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest as he stared at Kurapica, and the faint outline of a twelve-legged spider taking shape on the inside of his left arm.
Beta-reader: Jo, Gold and Lea Summers all helped!
Chapter summary: A twelve-legged Spider.
Chapter 99
Morning found Kuroro in bed, an armful of hot blond pressed against his chest. He slid his eyes open and looked down to the golden hair, which was all that he could see of the Kuruta, and couldn't help the smile that slowly tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was an honest smile, one that initially didn’t trouble him. He was genuinely glad with the way that Kurapica was snuggling against him, a joy that had nothing to do with planning or victory, but something deeper, quieter, yet stronger all the same.
This was bad.
He suddenly realized that he was standing on the edge of a deep abyss, one that he had almost taken a step into. How had he even allowed himself to come this close to losing his grip on reality?
He stilled, conscious now that his hand had been stroking down Kurapica's back in a slow, even rhythm, as his mind processed the situation. He frowned to himself as his hand stilled, feeling suddenly very foolish.
“It felt good,” the blond murmured against his chest, then snuggled in closer. “You didn’t have to stop.”
“You’re awake,” Kuroro said, not letting surprise slip into his voice, though Kurapica’s voice had effectively put a stop to his train of thoughts. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Kurapica greeted sleepily. “Actually, no. I don’t want it to be morning yet.”
“What if I got you some coffee?” Kuroro asked, amusement seeping into his voice despite himself.
“You’d need to move and I don’t want you to,” Kurapica replied.
“Aren’t we supposed to meet your friends for breakfast?” the taller man reminded him. “We’ll be late, and they were planning to leave today, weren’t they?”
That seemed to wake the younger man up and he stretched languidly, his lean body pressing slightly against the older man’s. Gods, Kuroro wished they didn’t have plans for the day. Kurapica felt so delicious against him like this.
Speaking of plans....
“Was last night an attempt to distract me from what we’ve planned?” he asked, keeping his tone light, like he wasn’t being serious.
Kurapica pulled back slightly to study his face.
“It depends,” he said, semi-seriously, “did it work?”
There was a pause that was just a little too long to be casual.
“You wish,” Kuroro said at last as he looked away. “Come on, let’s find ourselves some coffee.”
He disentangled himself from the blond’s tempting body and walked to his bags so that he could find some clothes for the day. He heard Kurapica sigh, then follow suit behind him. It took him about a few short minutes to get dressed, then they made coffee and packed their belongings, as they were leaving today to head to Ryuuseigai.
Once they had gathered all of their things in the Fun Fun Cloth, they finally made it out of the hotel room and down to the lobby. They made another stop at the coffee shop that was set up in a corner of the lobby, then waited a couple of minutes before the teenage Hunters made their way down to ground floor as well. When they arrived, they made a beeline for Kurapica and started chatting excitedly with him. Hisoka was late, but Kuroro wasn’t entirely surprised. He sipped at his coffee and idly watched the people come and go. At some point, he spotted some policemen walking up to the counter, but he didn’t tense up or otherwise give himself away. The three younger members of their company were talking normally, either trying to appear natural or unaware of their presence. Either way, it worked, because the men in blue eventually left the hotel. Soon after, Hisoka finally made it down the lobby and they filed out to find a restaurant where they could have a proper breakfast.
They ate while chatting amiably, the two youngest members seeming to want to spend as much time as possible talking to Kurapica, etiquette be damned. They ate like teenage boys, speaking while chewing, occasionally arguing with each other, and generally making a ruckus, while Kurapica was quieter and Hisoka looked on, seemingly bored.
After breakfast, they walked to the train station where they were to go their separate ways. Just before walking to his platform, Gon turned around and fixed a serious gaze on Kuroro.
“If you hurt him,” he said challengingly, “I won’t forgive you.”
“Oh?” Kuroro asked, tilting his head. “What would you do if I ended up hurting him?”
“You wish you knew!” Gon said as he pulled one eyelid down with his right index finger and stuck his tongue out at the older man.
He turned on his heels and ran up the stairs that led to the platform. Killua shifted his gaze from Kuroro to Kurapica and then back.
“Yeah, what he said,” he muttered with a shrug. “Don’t get yourself killed, now,” he added to the blond and followed his friend at a more sedated pace.
The three remaining men turned around and made their way to their own platform. Hisoka looked around unconcernedly, but Kurapica had a pensive frown on his fair features. At some point, Hisoka disappeared in the crowd of commuters, but he caught up with them on the train. He didn’t give a reason for his disappearance, but Kuroro was used to Hisoka coming and going as he pleased and didn’t comment on it. Soon after, the train left the station and Kurapica took out a book to read. Kuroro glanced at him and did the same.
The next couple of days went by slowly, Kurapica becoming quieter and quieter as they got closer to the city where he would have to get inked and then meet his new team. Because Kuroro was going to make sure that Kurapica did both. And then... then it would be time to fulfill his side of the deal and go to Lukso with the blond, to bury the most wondrous treasures to ever pass through Kuroro’s hands.
What a shame.
On the other hand, knowing that he was the only person alive on earth who would ever see those glowing orbs shine with lust and desire? That wasn’t a bad feeling; not a bad feeling at all.
Soon enough, they had reached the limit of where the trains could go and they had to switch to hiking through the rocky desert that surrounded the landfill city on all sides for miles. From quiet, Kurapica became silent and remote, and he watched everything with wide, glazed eyes. Kuroro couldn’t tell if he was curious, worried, or sullen. Perhaps it was a mix of all three.
The day that they were to arrive, Kurapica took out a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal small bubble packets inside, obviously contact lenses. The Spider Head tilted his head curiously as the blond put the black coloured lenses in one by one.
“Worried you’ll give yourself away?” he asked.
Kurapica turned an unreadable stare on the taller man. Kuroro opened his mouth to say something else, but then Hisoka hummed behind him, setting his teeth on edge. It was part amused, part intrigued, and if Kuroro had been afraid of the clown, he would have fled. As it was, he turned a darkening expression on Hisoka and tried to read his psychotic smile, but came up empty.
“I see, I see,” Hisoka said gleefully. “Good choice, good choice. I want to fight you too, now.”
Kurapica sent him a flat, warning stare, then put the small box away. They trekked the remaining way to the outskirts of the city, if one could call it that. Hisoka was still going along with them, although he seemed to stay on the edge of things, looking in with an unnerving grin. Technically, Kurapica had only asked for his help for the last mission and the jester should have left, but Kuroro thought he knew why Hisoka was staying. And if his guess was right, then he wanted to keep Hisoka where he could see him.
Just as they were strolling past the first piles of refuse, Kurapica suddenly paused. Kuroro walked a few more steps before he realised that Kurapica really wasn’t going to take another step. He turned around and tilted his head questioningly. Kurapica met his gaze and hesitated.
“Is there a problem?” Kuroro inquired at last.
“This….” Kurapica began, but then he hesitated, clearly ill at ease. “This is your hometown?”
“Yes,” Kuroro inclined his head in assent, “and my homebase. We need to get you inked before we meet with the rest of my team - they have gathered some of the Scarlet Eyes for you as well, you know.”
Kurapica still hesitated, looking clearly uncomfortable.
“Will I have to get the tattoo first?” he wanted to know.
“Yes,” Kuroro agreed. “I’d intended to do that first.”
“Wh-” Kurapica began but his voice broke, so he tried again, “where will you put it on me?”
Kuroro considered in silence for a moment, thinking carefully of how he would reply to this very loaded question. After a few minutes, he took a few steps back towards the Kuruta, stopping just in front of him.
“I usually let the new member decide where they’re going to have the tattoo,” he said at length.
“But you won’t let me?” the blond wanted to know.
There was another pregnant pause, where Kuroro wondered what the right answer would be.
Truth was, he didn’t mind where Kurapica had the tattoo, so long as he had it; proof that his life now belonged to Kuroro. Yet again, he wanted Kurapica to belong to him in a way that transcended the Spiders as a unit. Through what they’d lived through and experiences, Kurapica wasn’t just one of the Spiders anymore; he was something different, something more important.
“Sure,” Kuroro said at last, “you can choose where you want it.”
“Under my foot,” Kurapica said quickly, then looked uncomfortable for a moment. “That is the only place I would accept the symbol of your group.”
“Under your foot,” the Spider Head echoed, mildly amused, wondering if he should be offended
“Yes,” Kurapica confirmed firmly.
There was another pause where they sized each other up, then Kuroro brought a hand to his chin and considered this for moment.
“I can imagine the reasons, but let me ask anyway,” he said at length. “Why?”
The young Kuruta had a humourless smile and shrugged lightly.
“This entire thing started because I wanted to, in a way, crush the Spiders under my heel,” he explained, “I wouldn’t have met you personally, or gone on this mad adventure, if it weren’t for this.”
Kurapica tilted his head as well, then shrugged again.
“It just seemed fitting, that’s all,” he said at last.
Kuroro considered him in silence for some time.
“Your reasoning is plausible,” he finally said, “but I will have to veto it. Choose somewhere else.”
Kurapica didn’t look surprised by the answer. He let out a sigh, clearly disappointed in spite of his best efforts, but he didn’t voice his discontent.
“Then, the wrist,” he said instead. “Though don’t be surprised if I wear long sleeves or a wrist band all of the time.”
Kuroro was indeed unsurprised, and this compromise was acceptable to him, so he nodded.
“Very well,” he agreed. “It will be on your wrist, and you can cover it as much as you want, save when I deem it necessary to be shown.”
Kurapica glanced at Hisoka and Kuroro followed his gaze.
“I’ll be with you in the tattoo parlour,” he added after a moment. “I want to make sure that it is properly done.”
“Of course,” Kurapica said, his face suddenly a blank mask that made Kuroro uncomfortable.
Well, it wasn’t like he was completely unable to understand what the younger man might be thinking; he had simply decided to ignore most of his opinion on this, as they would never agree, no matter how much it was debated.
Finally, he turned around and started walking again. Kurapica trailed behind him and Kuroro glanced backwards to make sure that he was indeed following. The blond’s face was carefully expressionless, though his fists were clenched, and the black contact lenses gave his eyes a dark, rather unsettling appearance. Hisoka brought up the rear, still silent, still creepy. The jester’s attitude on the trip so far had been so strange. But Kuroro had an idea of why he was there.
He had no intention of letting Kurapica get his way.
The tattoo parlour, such as it was, looked like nothing much on the outside. One wouldn’t even know what it was from looking in from the street, if one could call it that. It was still somewhat on the outskirt of the city, where the streets and building weren’t so organized and everything still more or less looked like a gigantic landfill where people had dug out holes into the piles of garbage in which to live.
Kuroro pushed aside a door that wasn’t supported by hinges, but simply leaning against a wall of refuse, revealing a hole. He stepped aside and turned to invite the others in. They were a little further back that he had expected and he was sort of uncomfortably surprised for a moment. He was so focused on what was to happen and so used to Kurapica actually following him, or at the very least walking by his side, that he hadn’t even considered the fact that Kurapica might have just given him the slip and he wouldn’t have known.
Kurapica was still there, however, unnatural dark eyes flat, face unreadable. Hisoka was grinning wildly and Kuroro knew that this was the time where Hisoka’s real uses would come into play.
The two men preceded him into the squalid room, which was currently empty. Kuroro replaced the door behind them as best he could from inside, then called out further into the shop. There was another opening, some long poles holding the eclectic refuse up somewhat crookedly and Kuroro yelled in its general direction.
“Druskel!” he called out, then waited a moment before trying again. “Druskel, customers!”
There was a grunt and some noise, then a very short man appeared in the doorway.
“It’s you again,” he grumbled. “Who’s the new recruit?”
His eyes slid right over Hisoka to focus on the blond, and he cocked his head.
“Where at?”
He grumbled, walking over to a sort of chair that appeared to be made from parts of other furniture, gizmos and possibly a gurney.
“On his wrist,” Kuroro replied smoothly, and produced a small envelope from inside of his windbreaker. “I have the needles here.”
Druskel made a grunt, then fiddled with the chair to make it comfortable for Kurapica while still allowing him to work.
“I hope you don’t mind pain,” Druskel said gruffly. “People don’t realize how sensitive wrists really are.”
Kurapica shrugged and sat down on an oddly placed cushion. Hisoka moved closer and immediately, Kuroro could see the thin skin-like film covering the blond’s arm and hand, could see how it was linked to Hisoka’s hand, the jester casually leaning against a table, not showing any indication of what he was doing - if one didn’t have gyo to see that is. Kuroro knew what he was looking for, however, knew what the two had been plotting. It was nearly offensive to him just how simple their plan was, and how they somehow expected to pull the wool over his eyes.
“Hisoka,” Kuroro said quietly, dangerously. “Out.”
“Oh?” the jester tilted his head, pressing one long fingernail to his cheek. “Are you asking me out - ” he took a moment to appreciate his own pun, then finished “ - to fight?”
Kuroro didn’t outwardly react, far too used to Hisoka’s antics by now. He glanced at Druskel, but the short, stocky man had stopped feeling intimidated by Spiders, new and old, a long, long time ago, and he simply set to work without looking at them.
“No,” Kuroro specified, returning his gaze to the redhead, “I want you to wait outside, leave, whatever you want to do, but remove your Texture Surprise from his wrist and leave this room.”
“Ah, well,” Hisoka said with an exaggerated shrug, “I’ve been found out, I’ve been found out…. You can’t blame the boy for trying.”
He slinked outside with an enigmatic smile, his eyes fixed on Kuroro until he slid quietly out the door and let it lean back onto the wall of refuse. Kuroro stood by the entrance to make sure that he wouldn’t come back, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest as he stared at Kurapica, and the faint outline of a twelve-legged spider taking shape on the inside of his left arm.